Numb
by aussiemel1
Summary: Sam and Dean race to save a young woman who Sam has seen in a vision. But there are surprises in store when the woman turns out to be from Dean's past, and Dean suffers a devestating injury.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ** This story was written during season 2, pre-Lisa, so the name is a coincidence and the story is AU. It was also written pre-angels which seems an age ago.

**Numb**

Chapter 1

The young woman stood against the wall of the diner, terror in her wide, darting eyes. She wore the uniform of a waitress - light pink, form fitting dress, small white apron at her waist. It could have been synonymous with dozens of eating establishments across the country, but the name tag at her breast identified her as Lisa, an employee of Happy Jacks Diner.

It was dark outside, she was the last employee in the place, just about to leave when confronted by the man in the business suit.

"Just take the money," Lisa pleaded, her blonde head nodding up and down, as if to convince the assailant it was the right choice.

"I'm not here for money." The well manicured man cocked his head to the side, a pitying look on his face, lips turning up in a menacing smile.

Lisa swallowed. "Please," she whispered. "I have a young son. I'm all he has."

The man gave a satisfied smile. "I know. And now he has nothing."

Lisa's screams shattered the stillness. As the young woman's pink uniform became stained with blood, her body ripped by unseen hands, the screaming reached a crescendo and then died away, leaving an eerie silence.

* * *

"Sam?"

The question was in the distance, through a haze of pain and mixed up memories. Sam fought to bring his breathing under control. He was hyperventilating and starting to feel light headed. _Slow it down_ he told himself. He ignored everything else, the pain in his head, his brother in the distance, the horror of the vision and focused completely on getting his breathing under control. His body was getting used to these sudden attacks and he knew what he had to do to bring it back to normal.

When his respiration was regular again, the young hunter let all the sensations he was holding at bay rush over him and it was the pounding in his head that overbore everything else. A familiar and despised pounding. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, certain that the pounding would abate in a few minutes, although a headache would follow him for the rest of the day.

"Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes and gave his brother a weak nod. A nod that conveyed, _'I'm okay._' He hadn't noticed the hand gripping his arm until it was now pulled away.

Relief flooded through Dean and he let out a breath. He hated the visions. It was a cruel 'gift' that his brother had been lumbered with, the ability to foresee horrifying deaths, usually connected somehow to the yellow eyed demon. Sam was a sensitive soul and having to endure such horror affected him deeply. If Dean could have taken this burden from his brother and put it on himself he would have done it in a heartbeat.

Dean sat patiently in the now stationary car waiting for Sam to be sufficiently recovered to describe what he had seen. The vision had come to Sam while they were driving down a long isolated stretch of road and as soon as Dean had seen his brother clutch his head, he had pulled over. Not that Dean could do anything to help Sam, a particularly galling state of affairs for someone who had assumed the role of his brother's protector. This particular pain was something Sam had to endure alone, although by being next to his brother, putting an encouraging hand on his shoulder, Dean did his best to offer comfort and support.

Sam shifted in the seat, righting himself from the slump he had fallen into and turned to his brother with dark, troubled eyes, his expression haunted from seeing a horror that Dean could only imagine but sometimes wished he could also see, just so he'd know what to say, how to react, how to make it better.

"Who gets whacked this time?" the older man asked and cringed at how insensitive the question sounded.

"A waitress," Sam responded wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Lisa"

"Did you get her number?" he smirked, and immediately wished he could take it back. _Did you get her number?_ Could he be more of an ass?

"Did I get her number?" Sam repeated with disbelief. "I just watched her die Dean."

"Yeah, I know man. Sorry," Dean shook his head in apology. "It's just an automatic reaction, you know, you see a waitress you get her number." S_top. Stop talking. You're making it worse. _

Silence descended in the car, Dean didn't trust himself not to saying something else inappropriate and Sam tried to make sense of what he had just seen. The screaming kept echoing around the young hunter's mind. And he was fixated on the words _"Please. I have a young son. I'm all he has."_ It struck a little too close to home, reminding him of his mother, making him wonder about her last words. Had she said something similar when the demon came for her? Tried to keep herself alive for the sake of her sons?

"Was it yellow eyes?" Dean asked, pulling Sam out of his reverie.

Sam blinked a few times, trying to focus on the question, trying to remember if he had seen a flash of yellow in his vision. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"What happened?"

Sam rubbed his eyes and sighed slightly at the recollection. "There was a man in a business suit. A demon. It was very like what happened in the cabin last year." Dean swallowed at the analogy, it was not an incident he was going to forget in a hurry, pinned to a wall and ripped to shreds by a demon possessing his father. Sam continued, "This girl, Lisa, was standing against the wall and then started screaming. There was blood everywhere."

"Anything else?"

"Nah."

Sam wasn't sure why he didn't tell his brother about the woman mentioning her young son. Maybe because it was affecting him so deeply, he didn't want to lay it on Dean.

"Do you know where?"

"At some diner called Happy Jacks. I don't know where it is, we're going to have to look it up."

Sam just assumed that they would go to this woman and try to prevent her death, but Dean had reservations. Yes he wanted to save the woman, of course he wanted to save her, but was it something they were capable of doing? Or were they just putting themselves in a situation that could result in their death? They didn't have the colt, so they had no means of killing the demon. Their only weapons were salt, holy water and a devils trap, the first two being defensive rather than offensive weapons and the last one requiring time and cunning to actually trap a demon. The best outcome would be to avoid the demon altogether and get the woman out of the diner before it showed up, but how long could they keep this woman out of harm's way? Demons had an incredible ability to track down their victims, if it really wanted this woman dead, chances are she would eventually die. And if they were with the woman when the demon caught up with her, Dean had no doubt the demon would delight in their deaths also.

He shook his head. Think about it later. He didn't want to discuss his concerns with Sam now, the kid had just seen this woman die, he wouldn't react well to a suggestion that they let the vision become a reality.

"Okay," the older hunter said and started the car. They needed to find civilization and an internet access before they could do anything more about the vision. Sam was looking drained in the passenger seat, and Dean hoped they could find a way to sort this thing out quickly and move on. He had planned on a few days of quiet time, Sam was still struggling with the revelation about their father's secret request and they could use some down time, some binge drinking time. With an inward sigh he realized it wasn't going to happen, not yet anyway, first they had to save the damsel, then they could drink themselves into a stupor.

They drove for half hour in silence until they reached the next town. Sam took his laptop into a café and Dean took the opportunity to order a late lunch. Happy Jack's diner they discovered was going to have them driving for many hours. Whether they could reach the diner before it closed tonight at 10pm was going to be touch and go. They both fervently hoped that the attack wasn't going to occur tonight.

Back in the car, continuing the journey, Dean travelled as fast as he could without attracting unwanted legal attention. He brought up the topic that had been troubling him.

"How are we going to fight the demon Sam? We don't have the colt. And I really don't want to get ripped apart again." Dean said it lightly but the memory weighed heavily on him. It was the most pain he had ever experienced and thoughts of a repetition put him in a cold sweat.

"Hopefully we'll have Lisa out of the diner before the demon shows up, so we won't have to face it." Sam knew that sort of optimistism was beneath them, but he said it anyway, wanting it to be true, wanting it to work out that way.

"Well that would be great, but seeing as we'll be getting to the diner right on closing time, what if it doesn't turn out that way and we have to fight the demon? You got any bright ideas about how to go about it?"

Sam sighed. It was a sad indictment on their lives that Dean expected the worst. "Well I've been thinking about that. We don't have anything to kill the demon, but what if we fight the body its hosting?"

Dean wasn't sure he followed. "You mean shoot the host. I don't know that pain is something that really affects a demon. Remember Meg? Fell out of a seventh storey window and walked away?"

"Yeah but this time I think we should use tranquilizer darts. The host body will shut down and there's nothing the demon can do about it. If the host can't function then the demon can't function." It had made perfect sense to Sam when he had thought of it earlier, but now, as he recited the idea to his brother, he didn't feel the same certainty that he previously had. In fact it sounded kind of lame and a bit naïve.

Dean took his eyes away from the road to give his brother a dubious look. "You're kidding me? You don't think the demon could push through a little tiredness?"

"It's more than tiredness Dean. It's a chemical interference with the nervous system that causes it to shut down." That sounded better. Maybe it could work.

Dean didn't look convinced. "I think we'd be better off shooting the host through the head."

"No!" Sam replied quickly and gave his brother an imploring look. "The host is just some poor innocent shmuck Dean, we can't kill him. All we need to do is buy ourselves some time so we can get away."

The older hunter considered the plan and grimaced. Nice idea, leaving the host unharmed, but its practicality was questionable. "How about we carry a tranquiliser gun and a handgun? If the tranquiliser doesn't work then we shoot the shmuck through the head"….._if we get the chance_ went unspoken. Sam nodded reluctantly.

The likelihood of having an opportunity to take two shots at the demon was pretty low. Which is why Dean would have preferred to take the head shot. He didn't want to kill an innocent person, but in an us or them situation, he would rather go with the more aggressive approach. How long would a tranquiliser dart take to work? Even if it was only five minutes, that was still enough time for the demon to slice them up badly.

"We could douse the darts in holy water, that would slow the demon down," Sam suggested, thinking out loud.

"Hmm," Dean replied, weighing the idea. The sting of holy water on a demon was only fleeting, but it may be enough to get them and the girl out of the diner. Could work.

Dean understood his brother's need to protect the innocent. Especially in light of all the dark side talk that had come up as a result of Dean revealing their father's secret plea to kill Sam if he couldn't be saved. The inference that Sam was going to become evil made Sam even more conscious about doing the right thing, protect those who were blameless. For this reason only, Dean decided to give Sam's tranquilizer dart plan a try, but he felt a real trepidation about what might transpire should they meet the demon. Demon versus dorks with tranquilizer darts. Dean knew who he'd put his money on.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't give a time frame for this story before I started. I'm imagining it occurring after Playthings.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

When Dean pulled the car to the kerb across from Happy Jack's diner, both boys were on edge. It was right on closing time, if the demon was going to attack tonight they had very little leeway in getting Lisa out and away.

And something else was bothering Dean. A feeling like he had been here before, to the town, to the diner. He searched his memory trying to place it but couldn't quite figure out when he might have visited, and in what context. It bugged him, but he quickly pushed his déjà vu into the background because it wasn't immediately relevant and he concentrated instead on the more important matter of the impending demon, focussing on what needed to be done.

Through the window the brothers could see that the diner was empty except for a young woman wiping down tables.

"Is that her?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," was the quiet response.

The brothers efficiently gathered what they needed out of the trunk. Two guns were placed in their waistbands and to Dean it felt off, he was used to carrying one gun, having the tranquiliser gun as well felt like a huge bulge at his back, it pulled uncomfortably at his clothing and he worried it might restrict his movement. They both grabbed a container of holy water and some salt then Dean tapped his younger brother on the arm and said, "Let's go."

Sam closed the trunk and they hurried across the road, raking their gazes up and down the road, alert for a man in a suit.

The diner greeted them with a prominent _closed_ sign on the door but Dean twisted the knob anyway, hoping it hadn't been locked. He huffed his irritation at finding he was out of luck and rapped his knuckles against the glass.

"We're closed," came Lisa's muffled voice. She didn't lift her head, just continued wiping down tables.

Dean knocked again.

"We're closed," she repeated with more volume, flicking an annoyed glance their way and walking toward the back of the room, pointedly indicating her intention _not_ to answer the door.

Dean almost broke the glass with his next knock, the hard and insistent raps made the pane rattle in the frame. He could feel Sam moving restlessly beside him, time almost audibly ticking.

Inside, Lisa straightened from her task and glared at the door. She narrowed her eyes, peering at the figures shadowed in the doorway, and the way she chewed her lip betrayed her nervousness, her uncertainty about admitting strangers. Dean pointed to the door handle, motioning for her to open and as he shifted in the light her eyebrows flew up in surprise as she caught a better view. He thought it was a good thing, until it was followed by a scowl, by her crossing her arms across her chest, which wasn't quite so positive. Even so, she took some hesitant steps toward them, appearing more inclined to let them in, although still clearly torn.

"Come on, come on," Dean muttered impatiently, eyes darting left and right down the sidewalk.

Deadbolts at the top and bottom of the doorframe were slid back and Lisa opened the door. "Dean?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Dean said, "Uh... yeah."

_What the hell?_ _How did she know his name?_

Her face darkened. "You've got a nerve coming here."

"Yeah, I know," the hunter replied, with no idea of what she was talking about but acutely aware that they had little time to discuss it. He pushed the door open and slipped inside, leaving Sam outside as lookout. "Listen, you need to leave. Now. With us." He grabbed Lisa's wrist and pulled her toward the door.

"Hey!" She pulled her arm out of his grip and took a few steps backward. "I'm not going anywhere with you, pig."

Dean got an inkling of how their last meeting might have ended. The look and tone was that of a woman scorned. A one night stand maybe. A one night stand when she was hoping for more. If he had time he figured he could explain himself to Lisa, charm her, feed her some bullshit, smooth the waters, but he didn't have that luxury and he wasn't sure what he could say quickly to placate this woman who was obviously holding a grudge, he had little experience in dealing with the consequences of his lifestyle. His fists opened and closed in frustration as precious seconds ticked by.

"Someone is coming to kill you,"he said bluntly. "We have to go." Apologies and smoothing could come later.

"You've got to be kidding me," she hissed, eyes flashing in disbelief and indignation. "I don't believe a word you're saying. You were a liar four years ago and I'm willing to bet you're a liar now."

"For God's sake..." Dean exploded. "Whatever, we have to _go_."

He thrust out his hand, wiggling his fingers at her, not wanting to grab her again but urging her to take hold.

The look of earnest on his face, the urgency in his voice made Lisa take an uncertain step toward him. She was still in two minds about the whole _someone's coming to kill you_ business but she could tell from Dean's demeanour that something was going on, he was genuinely worried.

There was a flicker in the lights, so slight that Lisa didn't notice it, but Dean _knew_, tonight was the night, Lisa was about to be attacked, and they were out of time. He cursed inwardly, dropped the hand that beckoned and took the few steps outside to pull Sam into the diner, locking the door behind.

"We're going to have to take a stand," Dean grimly informed his brother.

Sam nodded, understanding with just those few words that the demon attack was imminent, that Dean didn't think they would be able to get Lisa to the car in time, that their only play was to take a defensive position in the diner and hope the element of surprise gave them the upper hand in the inevitable battle.

"Is there a back entrance?" Dean asked Lisa.

"Yes," she said slowly, unsure of the thrust of the question. Were they going to use the back entrance?

Dean's eyes whirled around the room taking in the dimensions and vulnerabilities. As well as the front door there were a number of windows - no way he could salt all those areas in the little time they had. But if they salted the back door at least he knew which way the demon was going to enter. He really wished he had time to set up a devils trap, those things worked like a charm, but if he didn't have time to salt the entrances, he certainly didn't have time to draw that complex diagram. Besides demons were probably wise to it now, they'd used it enough times.

"Sam, salt the back door and stay out of sight." Dean gave the order still glancing around, making a plan on the fly. "I'll hide behind the counter, let me come out first and dart the guy, then you finish him off."

Sam swallowed. Finish him off because Dean would probably be incapacitated? That was the inference. Sam wasn't sure if his brother was deliberately protective or if it was an unconscious response but he wanted to say something about it because it drove him nuts being hustled into the background, watching Dean take the risks. Why couldn't they come out together? But it wasn't the time for arguing, or for a discourse on the presumptive hierarchy of birth order, he just nodded and did as he was instructed.

He tried to think about how this might go down. It was his worst nightmare having to face a demon without the colt. All they had were holy water and their holy water doused ammunition. It wasn't much and he was getting a sinking feeling about how this was going to turn out. The tranquiliser gun weighed heavily in his waistband. He still thought it was a dumb idea using that before a bullet, but he had told Sam he would and he felt obliged to give it a try.

Lisa was bewildered by the unexpected burst of activity. She couldn't follow what was going on, didn't understand the decisions being made and why there was no longer an urgency to leave.

"What's going on?" she asked weakly.

"Change of plan," Dean returned dryly. "I'm going behind the counter, but as far as you're concerned I'm not here." Dean caught her hands and looked intently into her uncomprehending eyes. "Hey. I'm not here," he said slowly, deliberately. "Do you understand? Someone is coming and you cannot let them know I'm here. You got it?"

"Yes," she replied uncertainly, a prickle down her spine, suddenly very afraid of what was about to happen. She gave herself a mental shake. "Where do you want me? What am I supposed to do?"

"Just act natural. Finish closing up. Do whatever you would normally do."

"Right," she muttered, as he jumped behind the counter. _Just act natural. Someone is coming to kill you, just act natural_. She picked up the cleaning cloth laying on a nearby table.

In less than a minute the brothers were hidden and the diner was silent. It was almost like Lisa had hallucinated the whole thing. She looked around trying to collect herself, trying to get her head around what was happening. It was beyond weird. Some guy she hadn't seen in years showing up claiming she was about to be murdered? It was ridiculous. She was a waitress in a small town, what possible motive could there be for her murder? And how would he know? He had to be deluded.

But there was a gnawing feeling in her stomach, because maybe he wasn't deluded. Maybe she had just missed an opportunity to avoid something awful.

She absently flicked her cloth over the nearest table, thinking about the last time she had seen Dean and was grateful for the anger and indignation that chased away her fear. _That bastard._ He had a nerve coming back and ordering her around. Scaring her with wild stories. She should have punched him in the face, given him what he deserved. He could stay hidden behind the counter all night as far as she was concerned. She was going to finish what she was doing and leave without a further word. Five minutes and she was out of there.

Lisa threw a murderous glance toward the counter then turned to face the dining area, looking for last minute jobs. She gasped when she saw a business suited man sitting at one of the tables. She hadn't heard him enter.

"I'm sorry sir, we're closed." Lisa addressed the unexpected visitor with a polite smile, but the gnawing feeling returned to her stomach. Was this the guy that wanted to kill her? He didn't look dangerous. Just some office worker coming home late. Then she remembered that Dean had locked the front door.

"Can I get some coffee?" the man asked pleasantly, as if he hadn't heard.

There was something in the customer's gaze that wasn't quite right. A burning intensity that was out of place. And Lisa thought she saw his eyes turn completely black, it was just a flicker, a trick of the light maybe, but it unnerved her.

She glanced toward the counter, her indignation at the man hidden behind suddenly gone, replaced by appreciation, relief that he was ready to spring to her aid. "I'm sorry sir, the coffee machine has been turned off. There is a late night café not far up the road, I'm sure they can offer you something."

From behind the counter Dean could hear the shake in Lisa's voice. He tightened his grip on the tranquiliser gun in his hand, waiting for the right moment to appear.

"But I don't want to go to the cafe up the road. They don't have what I want."

There was an unmistakeable menace in the voice, in the smug expression, and it chilled Lisa, made her think _he really does want to hurt me_. "I-I can't..." Lisa started to back away from him. She had an urge to run that she couldn't stifle, a self perservation instinct that screamed at her to get away.

Dean heard a flutter of footsteps and Lisa appeared behind the counter with a plaintive look on her face. Her eyes met Dean's for only a second before she was thrust toward the wall behind the counter, held there with her arms pinioned to her side, toes stretching for the ground a foot below.

Dean stood up, pinpointed his mark and fired a tranquiliser into the demon's chest. The demon screamed at the sting of holy water and pointed a hand at Dean, picking him up and hurling him across the room. He hit tables, chairs and the wall on his way to the ground and knew where he was going to be bruised tomorrow, but clambered quickly to his feet. He was surprised and a little suspicious that he was still free to move, that he wasn't pinned.

"Dean Winchester. What a pleasure." The demon looked genuinely delighted to see him. Probably envisioning his death, Dean thought.

"Demon. Back from hell I see." Dean put on a faux smile, and used a tone like they were old friends while he calculated his next move. "Been a bit chilly these last few days. It's not like home. You must find it hard."

The demon grinned. "Are you shooting the breeze with me? About the weather? Is that our relationship?" He swayed, shot a hand out to grasp the back of a chair and the smile left his face.

Dean's eyebrows rose in amazement. The tranquiliser dart was working. If only he knew how long it would take for the host to collapse.

Dean took advantage of the demon's distraction to whisk the holy water out of his pocket and spray his adversary, eliciting screams as the water bubbled and burned. The hunter pressed his advantage by landing a punch on the chin of the stranger. It was a pretty useless gesture, the demon wasn't the one feeling it, but he didn't know how this was going to end up so he was keen to put in a good show while he could. Before he was able to land another punch, the hunter was lifted once again and thrown across the room with a ferocity that surprised him. Obviously the weakening of the host body didn't correlate to a weakening of the demon's power. He hoped Sam's deduction about the demon being shut down by the host's collapse was correct.

The hard plastic of the counter top caught Dean in the small of his back, causing an explosion of pain that stole his breath and made sparks appear across his vision. He collapsed to the floor gasping for air, his head swimming, and clenched the muscles along his spine trying to minimise the agony, trying to force a quick recovery because there was no time for injuries, he couldn't afford to lay on the floor when he was battling a _demon_.

There was a flurry of movement behind the counter, Sam joining the fray, and the demon hissed and flinched as another dart caught it in the neck. Dean shook his head to clear the haze, looking for his brother, but the counter obscured his vision. Dean wanted Sam in his sight, he needed to know what was going on. He pressed his hands underneath him and tried to push into a sitting position but the pain in his back was tremendous, the slightest movement ripped through him and left him breathless.

"Hi Sam," the demon smiled, pulling out the dart. "I figured you were close by."

Dean heard a crash as his brother was thrown, still out of his line of sight. He sucked in a pained breath when he instinctively tried to rise, stilled himself and watched the demon from his position on the floor. There was no doubting its unsteadiness, leaning heavily on a chair to keep itself upright, so close to being taken down. Dean reached behind for the handgun in his waistband, to hell with the plan, it was time for a quick end, but his hand came up empty. He looked around frantically, spotting the gun within his reach, but as he shot a hand toward it Dean was raised from the ground by unseen hands. The motion caused him to cry out in agony.

Dean sailed backward, past tables and chairs, and in that fraction of a second saw Lisa still pinned to the back wall, and Sam pulling himself up from the ground before striking hard against the wall which caused fresh barbs of pain to snake up and down his spine. He shut his eyes tight, maybe even blacked out for a few seconds, moments passed before he was able to think past how much he hurt, and it was then that he realised that he was hovering above the ground, that he was unable to move, that the demon had him stuck fast.

Sam stood up shakily, unsure of how to proceed. He'd unloaded the dart and the body inhabited by the demon looked ready to give out. Should he just wait for it? He still had an urgent sense of not wanting to hurt the host. He reached into his jacket pocket and rested his hand on the flask of holy water within.

"Shoot him," Dean directed, his voice a pained croak.

Sam's eyes slid to his brother, his face wrinkling in concern at the strained voice, visions of the cabin dancing before him. But a quick visual scan revealed no blood on Dean, which was a relief.

"Yeah shoot me Sam. Shoot this man who has a wife and three young kids," the demon taunted. Sam eyes flicked back to the demon, in turmoil about what to do. He didn't want to disobey his brother, but he felt that in a few minutes it could all be over, without losing the life of the poor innocent acting as host for the demon. In one quick fluid movement the young hunter pulled the handgun out of his waistband and aimed it at the demon's head, then held that position, willing the demon to fall over, give in to the sedation and end the standoff.

The demon smiled. "Do it Sam. Force me out of this body. Make a little sacrifice." The demon raised his hand toward Dean. "Do it now or I'll kill your brother."

Sam held his pose and tightened his finger on the trigger just a fraction. Shoot him in the leg? That had worked on their father.

The demon's legs buckled, sending him to his knees. He glared at Sam and spat, "You're pathetic," then with the last of his energy flung Sam sideways into the nearby wall before opening his mouth and, with a yell, emitted black matter, which curled under the front door disappearing into the darkness beyond. Dean and Lisa crashed to the ground as the body previously inhabited by the demon slumped to the floor in a deep, drugged sleep.

Sam picked himself up from where he'd been thrown and rolled his shoulder, the point of contact with the wall. He was relieved when he saw Lisa stand up, felt a real satisfaction at having thwarted the demon's attempt on her life, avoiding the awful outcome he had seen in his vision. But his moment of content was shattered when he saw his brother struggling to sit up. He loped over to Dean's side, heart in his mouth as his eyes raked his form, looking for injury. He could see some cuts and bruises but nothing more serious, and very little blood, which made it a markedly different outcome from their last run in with a demon. He assumed his brother had hit his head and that accounted for his slowness to rise.

Dean managed to pull himself into an unconvincing sitting position, his arms on the floor behind propping him up. He was trying to be stoic about the knifing pain in his back, trying to put on a brave face, but he suspected he was going to need medical attention. Or maybe he just needed to rest. Maybe he just needed to sleep on it and see how he felt in the morning.

The younger man knelt beside the older and said in a low voice, "You okay?"

Dean nodded.

Sam continued, "We have to get out of here. That thing could be looking for someone else to inhabit and be back."

Dean nodded again, it was a fair assumption and he reached for his brother's arm to help him up. Suddenly Dean's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. The expression startled Sam, made him think there was some imminent danger and he quickly turned around, thinking something must be behind him. He was puzzled when he saw nothing and looked back at his brother with confusion. Dean's face was frozen in… terror? dread? Sam couldn't quite read it, but the look turned him cold.

"What is it Dean?"

"I can't….."

Dean's head was spinning and he could feel his hands sliding away behind him. He would have fallen but for Sam instinctively reaching out and gripping his shirt, pulling him back into a sitting position. The sudden jerking movement produced a yelp of pain from the older man and Dean's eyes lost focus, he only just managed to avoid passing out. Sam knew then that Dean had suffered more than a knock to the head.

"What Dean? What is it?" Sam asked urgently, the hair on his neck starting to prickle. He wasn't sure if Dean was trying to tell him something about the demon or if it was something else, but clearly he was injured and needed help.

Dean swallowed and tried again, "I can't…" But the words were so terrible they stuck in his throat, and he looked helplessly at his younger brother, unable to finish.

"It's okay Dean, I'll carry you."

Sam had to get his brother to a hospital, something was wrong and he couldn't figure out what. As smoothly as he could he eased Dean over his shoulder and stood up. It resulted in an agonized groan from the older man and Sam winced in sympathy. "I know, man, I'm sorry."

The young man glanced over at Lisa, who was watching him with vacant eyes. "We've got to go," he said forcefully, and moved quickly toward the door, every step producing a groan from over his shoulder. Lisa moved mechanically, not really comprehending what Sam had said, but not wanting to be left behind. She gave the sleeping man on the floor a wide berth, afraid that he might suddenly wake up and attack again.

Sam heard Dean mumble something, and keen to keep his brother awake and talking asked him to repeat it. Dean mumbled again and Sam felt a horror spread through him as he understood what his brother had just said.

"I can't move my legs."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lisa sat in the passenger seat of the Impala casting furtive glances at the dark haired man driving. She felt awkward about the fact that she didn't know who he was. She'd heard both Dean and the guy in the suit address him as Sam, so figured that was his name, but other than that he was just some random guy she was driving around with.

To distract her from her awkwardness, she looked over the interior of the car. She had been in this car once before, a long time ago, and had been impressed by it. Impressed also by the guy currently laying across the back seat. _He's a jerk, he's a jerk, he's a jerk_ she silently recited, but immediately felt guilty because he'd just saved her life and hurt himself doing it, proving the words wrong.

Lisa turned around in her seat to get a good look at Dean. His eyes were closed tightly, one hand was clenched in a fist at his forehead, the other was braced against the seat near his hip. His mouth was moving, talking to himself. She tilted her head to try and catch what he was saying and realized he was singing, very quietly, punctuated by gasps. Her eyes flicked over his face and she felt the same quickening of her heart she had felt the first time she'd laid eyes on him. God, he was beautiful. _Dammit_. She wasn't going to fall for him again. _You dislike him_ she silently berated herself. _He is a jerk_. She had been telling herself that for years and she tried to hold onto it, but her resolve wavered when his face contorted in pain and a groan escaped him.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked.

_Not really_ Lisa wanted to reply but tried to find a more gentle response than the honest truth.

"He's singing."

Sam chuckled nervously. "Yeah, he does that."

Lisa struggled to take her attention away from Dean. She wanted to drink him in and she hated herself for it. She forcibly shifted her eyes to Sam.

"Look, we weren't formally introduced back there. I'm Lisa."

"Sam."

Lisa considered reaching across to shake hands, formalize the introduction but decided not while Sam was driving.

"So how do you know that jerk?" she said lightly, motioning with her thumb toward the back seat.

Sam looked at her sharply. "He's my brother."

"Oh."

Lisa was going to have to stop calling him a jerk. At least out loud. She was surprised the jerk had a brother. She'd only known Dean a few days but it had been a very full few days and he'd never mentioned his brother. Mentioned his father a few times, but never his brother. Wow, it was surprising how much she remembered about him.

"Why do you call him a jerk?" Sam countered, and it was purely conversational because he had a pretty good idea, he just needed to talk, and kind of hoped Dean would interject with something snarky. Dean was too quiet.

Lisa shifted in her seat, stalling while she figured out how to answer. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to share, she didn't know Sam at all and her history with Dean was pretty personal.

"I had a …thing with the jerk, um Dean, about 4 years ago. It ended... suddenly."

Lisa sniffed, amused by the oversimplification of the 'girl meets boy, girl falls hard, boy leaves without a goodbye a few days later and is henceforth referred to as the jerk' story. There was a lot more to it than her simple statement revealed, a _lot_ more, but men usually stuck together on these matters, had a different point of view when it came to what constituted unacceptable behaviour. And she didn't feel like pouring out her heart to someone she'd just met, especially not in such tense circumstances.

"I see," Sam said simply, and even though he was staring at the road, Lisa saw him wince a little, look kind of regretful, like he might apologize, and she was surprised, it wasn't the reaction she had expected. She wasn't sure what she _had_ expected, but Dean was his brother and she thought there would be dismissal or defense in the response. The quiet empathy threw her. Maybe she was reading too much into the expression. Maybe he was thinking about his brother hurt in the back seat and the regret wasn't for her at all but it felt like Sam was sorry and it made her feel a little teary, the buried hurt came to the surface.

"Could you not call him a jerk?" Sam asked, flicking soulful eyes on her that Lisa doubted anyone could say no to. "I mean I'm sure you have every right..." his gaze shifted to the back seat through the rear view mirror. "Just not right now."

Lisa turned her head to look at the very still Dean. "I'll try," she sighed, "but I've been calling him a jerk for four years, its going to be hard to kick that habit."

Sam drew his eyebrows together. "You've been talking about Dean for four years?"

"Well, no, but, you know, if he came up in conversation he was known as the jerk."

"Why would he come up in conversation?"

"Well... he wouldn't." Lisa flushed uncomfortably. "I'm just saying…if he did... which he wouldn't... hardly ever..."

She let the explanation trail off as a lost cause. She sounded like a pathetic loser who had been pining over a man who dumped her four years ago. She hadn't been pining for him, she had moved on. Mostly. It had been a kick in the teeth though, the complete lack of recognition in Dean's eyes when she had opened the door of the diner. Insulting that she wasn't as memorable as he was.

"How long were you two together?"

Lisa let out a slow breath, the answer to the question was just going to reinforce the _loser_ impression, but she answered anyway. "Three days."

"Three days?" Sam was bemused, his empathy dissolved. "You've been talking about a three day relationship for four years?"

"No!" Lisa huffed. "I haven't talked about him at all. It was a three day relationship for chrissake, it was nothing. I barely remember him." She crossed her arms and shifted her gaze to the passenger window, assuming a very clear _conversation closed_ pose.

There was silence for a few minutes before Sam said, "I'm sorry, I'm just…..Can you check on him again."

Sam was constantly trying to gauge his brother's condition through the rear vision mirror but it was too dark to really get a feel. All he knew was that Dean was laying quiet and still on the back seat and both those things, the quiet and the still, were worryingly out of character. They had a long drive ahead, Sam had decided not to take Dean to the nearest doctor and drive instead to the hospital an hour away. It was a safety consideration rather than a quality of care consideration, Sam wanted to put as much distance as he could between them and the demon. But now he was second guessing himself, struggling with heightened concern because Dean hadn't said _anything_ since they'd been in the car. Not one bitching or moaning word. It was unnerving.

Lisa turned around to peer at Dean. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed and the hand that had been clenched to his forehead had fallen behind his head. "He's asleep," she reported.

"Passed out," Sam corrected.

"Really?" Lisa looked at the injured man again. She'd never seen someone unconscious before. He looked so peaceful, just like he was sleeping.

"Is he breathing okay?"

Lisa had to raise herself in the seat and lean into the back to get close enough to check his breathing. She could smell Dean and it brought back such bittersweet memories, of being in his arms, of her head on his shoulder, of inhaling that scent, loving that scent.

_Focus_, she told herself sharply. She watched his chest go up and down rythmically, listened for any irregularity in his breathing, and put her hand out to touch Dean on the cheek, check his temperature, but at the last minute felt shy about it, self conscious about getting handsy, and pulled away.

She returned to her position next to Sam and said, "He seems okay. He's gasping a little bit, but other than that he's breathing alright."

"What do you mean he's gasping?" Sam sounded a bit panicked. "Can he breathe or not? Gasping how?"

"I think it's just the motion of the car," Lisa soothed. "Gasping like it hurts. It's his back isn't it? Is that where he's hurt?"

"Yeah." Sam left it at that, not wanting to elaborate, not wanting to think about it. He was getting a strong sense that he should have taken Dean to the nearest medical help, that he'd made the wrong call.

"He'll be okay," Lisa said gently, but they both knew it was a platitude.

Silence descended. Both Lisa and Sam had avoided bringing up what had occurred tonight. It was all so unreal to the young woman. A long lost lover knocks on her door and tells her she's about to be killed, then lo and behold, not ten minutes later she's pinned to a wall and watching her ex-lover get thrown around like a rag doll without anyone actually touching him. Where do you even begin to ask questions about that?

"Sam?" Lisa broke the silence.

"Hm?"

"What happened tonight? Was that guy really going to kill me?

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Lisa didn't know anything about demons, Sam figured she probably thought she had been attacked by some ordinary guy. Well maybe not an _ordinary_ guy, but she wouldn't be thinking in terms of something supernatural and he had to tread lightly. He didn't want to scare her too much. And he also didn't want her to think he was a nutcase.

"You've heard of people being possessed?" he started.

Lisa frowned but answered, "Yeah. You mean by ghosts and stuff."

"Yeah." _Close enough_ he thought. "Well that guy in the diner was possessed. By something evil."

Lisa's frown deepened. "So something evil wanted to kill me?" she said slowly, with clear disbelief.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, knowing how ridiculous it must sound to the uninitiated.

"Why would it want to kill me?"

"I don't know," Sam answered honestly.

Lisa mulled that over briefly then asked, "How did you know something was going to kill me? How did you know where I was?"

The question was heading into dangerous ground for Sam. He wasn't exactly comfortable with his freakish tendencies and he didn't particularly want to reveal them to some woman he'd just met. "We received information about it."

"Are you a cop?" Lisa asked and then remembered that Dean had told her four years ago he was an investigator.

"No."

"PI?"

"Kind of," Sam conceded.

"Ah," Lisa said, satisfied because the story checked out with what she remembered about Dean. "So did the possessed guy have telepathy? How did he throw Dean around like that?"

"It was the evil thing inside that threw Dean around. They're very powerful. We were lucky to get out alive."

"So what is this evil thing?"

Sam hesitated before answering. Tell her the truth or keep it vague? Since this thing was after her, he decided to tell the truth, although he wasn't convinced it was the right decision, it was going to be a hard sell. "It was a demon."

When he didn't get a response, Sam glanced at Lisa. She was looking at him with an expression of incredulity and a little mistrust, obviously trying to decide whether he was winding her up or telling the truth.

"A demon? Like something from hell?" she mocked.

"Yes."

There was a pause. "Are you sticking with that story?" she asked eventually.

Sam gave a grim smile and nodded. "It's the truth."

Lisa didn't know what to say. Either she was being played for a fool or Sam was telling the truth. Or maybe he was deranged, full on deluded. That was a scary thought, that a deranged guy was driving her somewhere late at night. But then she had just seen and experienced some inexplicable stuff, things way outside her usual realm of understanding. And Sam exuded honesty, and had just saved her life, she was inclined to believe him, despite the outrageousness of the explanation. Lisa sighed. She had an awful feeling that she was in way over her head, and she didn't know how it had happened. She was just a single mother in a small town trying to make a living. Why were possessed men trying to kill her? God that sounded ridiculous.

"Well we're safe now. I mean it's over right?"

"No," Sam said reluctantly. "They don't give up that easily."

"So I could still die? But what's the point?" Lisa cried helplessly, trying to understand. "What's the point in killing me?"

"I don't know," Sam replied, "but we'll figure it out. We'll keep you safe."

Right now keeping Lisa safe was the furtherest thing from Sam's mind. He'd avoided the outcome in his vision and that had been his sole purpose, he hadn't thought ahead to protecting Lisa, and now he couldn't think about it, not with Dean… He cast another glance through the rear vision mirror into the backseat. Still no movement, still no sound. Even a groan would be appreciated right now, something to let Sam know his brother was hanging in there.

There was silence in the car, Sam and Lisa were preoccupied with their thoughts and fears and it didn't seem appropriate to carry on a frivolous conversation. Lisa rested her elbow on the sill and put her head in her hand, letting the headlights on the road ahead hypnotise her as she thought about her son. What would happen to him if she were killed? Tommy was only three, so trusting and vulnerable. Without a mother to protect him this world would eat him alive. She yearned to have him on her lap right now, to know that he was safe. Whatever Sam had planned for the next few days, she had to have her son with her, she couldn't bear it if something happened to him in her absence. She went over in her head how she was going to break it to Sam that she had to return to the town they had just fled to pick up her child. She wasn't sure how Sam would react, but she wasn't going to be talked out of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sam sat on a hard plastic chair in the emergency waiting room with his head buried in his hands. He couldn't escape the conclusion that this was all his fault, Dean in the hospital was all his fault. It had started with the vision and then he'd made it worse with the tranquiliser darts idea. What the hell had he been thinking with those things? Stupid. They should have shot the demon in the head and run, like Dean had suggested. It had been selfish of him to put a stranger's safety ahead of his brother's just to prove his humanity, to quell his disquiet about the demon granted abilities and what they made him, or what they might make him. He'd been entirely focussed on trying to avoid his supposed destiny and it had resulted in Dean being seriously injured, paralysed, and he wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself. Even worse, there was no way to make amends, it was a mistake that could irrevocably change things forever.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to Lisa's gently smiling face. She dropped into the seat next to him. "Any word?"

Sam shook his head.

"I just called my mother and told her what happened." She tipped her head and amended, "Well, a version of what happened. She was very sympathetic and sends her prayers." Lisa's mother had been shocked when she had heard that Lisa was at the hospital with _Dean_. There had been a long distance interrogation about how it had all come about and at the end of the conversation a slight pause before the question Lisa _knew_ was coming, _Have you told him about Tommy? _

Lisa sighed, took a deep breath and decided to be blunt about what was on her mind. "Listen Sam. Remember I told you I had a young son?" She ducked her head trying to catch Sam's eye, but he didn't look her way, didn't acknowledge the question and she paused awkwardly, momentarily stymied by the lack of reaction. "Anyway, yeah, look, I've got a young son and I'm really worried about him. I'm worried that the guy who came looking for me at work is going to come looking for me at home. And he's going to find Tommy, no me, just my son and my mother. And I don't know what he would do about that." She continued thickly, "He's my baby Sam. I live for him. I need him to be safe. I want him _here_, with me, so that I can see he's okay." Her gaze skittered across the white floor tiles. "So I'm going home to get him. I'm going to bring him back here. I can't think about _someone's trying to kill me_, I can't think about _anything_ until he's with me. Once I know he's safe then we can talk about what's going on, and I'll do whatever you ask. But I can't stay here right now. I can't sit here twiddling my thumbs while my son is unprotected. And I'm sorry. I know that must sound cold and ungrateful, I know you're worried about Dean, and I am too, but I just... I hope you understand."

Lisa waited, with guilty expectation, for Sam's response. She knew it was wrong to be thinking about herself when they were in a hospital waiting to hear about Dean. The timing was wrong for _I want_. But she couldn't deny her fear. She didn't want a showdown, she didn't want to be forced into saying _I'm going whether you like it or not,_ Sam was already bowed with stress he didn't need the aggravation, but her mind was made. She _had _to get her son.

Going through her mind were the words, _we can do_ _this the_ _hard way or we_ _can_ _do it the easy way._ She was going, that was indisputable._ A_ll that had to be determined were the circumstances. And she fervently hoped Sam would be agreeable.

Sam lifted his head and gazed at her solemnly, frowned for a moment, then nodded with heavy resignation, and Lisa felt relief wash over her.

Truth was, Sam didn't hear most of the speech. He couldn't concentrate on what Lisa was saying, his attention was constantly diverted by passing medical staff and the expectation, the hope, that someone would stop and tell him what was going on with his brother. But he got the gist of what was said. She was leaving. And he found he didn't much care. _Go and get your son? Yeah, whatever._ He was too wrapped up in grief and guilt to think about anything other than Dean right now.

Lisa swallowed. She recognised that Sam was distracted, and felt awful for badgering him, but she wasn't quite finished. "Sam?" She waited for the dazed eyes to look at her. "Could I borrow the car? I'll just go get my son and come right back." The sentence finished in a rush, in anticipation of a negative response. If Sam said no, Lisa would have to wait for the morning bus, and that would involve a torturous seven hour wait, hoping and praying that her son was alright. She held her breath.

Sam fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out the keys, handing them to Lisa without a word. There was a sensible part of his mind screaming _Don't do it, Dean will kill you, _buthe ignored it. He kind of wanted Lisa away from him. He didn't want the burden of having to make small talk with her or share his concerns. He didn't know her at all and having her next to him when he was going through something so personal was awkward.

A grateful smile spread across Lisa's face and she let out the breath she was holding. "Thankyou Sam."

Secretly Lisa hoped Sam would offer to take the drive back home with her. She was scared to death of what may be waiting. Sam had said these demons didn't give up easily so it was possible that she could be ambushed as she walked through the door. But then, that was even more reason to make the trip. If the demon knew where she lived and had taken Tommy hostage, or even worse…. Well she had to go and face that, she couldn't live with the uncertainty. And she couldn't just leave Tommy in her mother's care on a wish and a prayer that they would be okay. Lisa had only just spoken to her mother and everything with her was fine, so maybe she could grab Tommy, send her mother home and be back with Sam without incident. She crossed her fingers and hoped that was how it would turn out.

It didn't look like the idea of taking the drive home with Lisa even crossed Sam's mind, he was clearly preoccupied. And she understood. He was worried about his brother, in the same way that she was worried about her son. When she had Tommy in her arms she would join Sam in worrying about Dean, but until then she had a mission that had to be fulfilled. She couldn't ask Sam to come with her, he'd already done so much, and she knew he wanted to be here at the hospital with his brother. She was going to be taking the drive alone.

Lisa patted Sam's arm as a show of comfort and support. "I _will_ come right back," she promised. When there was no response, she knelt down so that she was eye level with the young man. "He _will_ be fine," she assured. Sam held her gaze for a moment, trying to reflect her optimism, but he already knew Dean was paralysed, and he also knew that Dean would probably rather die than live like that. There wasn't much to be hopeful about. He gave Lisa a wan smile and watched her leave.

It wasn't until later that it occurred to Sam that something could happen to Lisa while she was collecting her son. The demon could be laying in wait to kill her and all they had been through would have been for nothing. Dean's injury would have been for nothing. He was angry with himself that he had just let her go, given her the car for god's sake, encouraged her to go. He should have prevented her from leaving, told her to wait until they could all make the trip together but he hadn't been thinking straight. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair. How was he going to explain it to Dean if she was killed on her return journey? How had the danger in picking up her son not occurred to him earlier? This was bad. Stupidly bad. And he didn't know how to fix it, Lisa hadn't left him her cell number so he couldn't call and check if she was okay. He was just going to have to wait it out. Hope she came back. Another weight to add to his shoulders.

A doctor came looking for Sam to discuss his brother's condition, and all thoughts of Lisa were temporarily forgotten. The doctor looked unfeasibly young, not much older than Dean, and it didn't inspire Sam with confidence. He braced himself for the bad news.

The doctor sat next to Sam on one of the hard chairs and gave the young man an encouraging smile. "I'm Dr Freemont, I've been looking after your brother."

Sam gave the doctor a pale smile. Niceties over the doctor launched into it, "Your brother has suffered a fracture to the L-2 vertebra in his lower back. The blow to his back has also caused bruising in the spinal column making it swell and it has resulted in a loss of sensation below the injury."

Sam nodded, feeling the prick of tears at the corner of his eyes. "So my brother is paralysed?"

"At the moment he's in what we call spinal shock, his spinal cord has completely shut down. But once the swelling subsides," the doctor considered his words very carefully, he needed to be cautious about his predictions, "your brother should recover some sensation and movement below the injury, it's just impossible to know how much. In a few days we can fully assess the injury and see what permanent damage your brother has suffered."

Sam swallowed at the words permanent damage, had to work hard to keep his emotions under control. The prognosis seemed so vague, he wasn't sure if Dean was paralysed or not.

The doctor continued, tried to lessen the blow. "It could have been a lot worse. Having the injury so low on the spine means your brother isn't suffering the breathing complications that often accompany these kind of injuries. And the fractured vertebra isn't misaligned or pressing on the spinal column so we don't need to operate on your brother, which is good."

Sam forced a smile, appreciative of the silver lining but not really drawing much comfort from it.

"What are the chances of a full recovery?" Sam asked hopefully.

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, _everybody wants a miracle,_ and honestly, he really couldn't predict what sort of lasting effects the injured man was going to suffer. Not wanting to make any promises or predictions that may not come to fruition he effectively repeated what he had already said, "I would expect your brother to recover some movement and sensation in his legs, but I don't know how much. Until the swelling subsides I really can't tell you any more than that."

Sam tried to be optimistic. Maybe Dean wouldn't spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Until they knew for certain what permanent effects Dean was facing, Sam was going to hold out hope that this could all turn out okay.

Doctor Freemont considered whether he wanted to take issue with Sam about his decision to drive his brother to the hospital rather than call an ambulance. He had probably made his brother's injury worse by not immobilizing his neck and spine. There was no point crying over spilt milk, it was done, the young man had made a wrong decision, but it had been such a reckless thing to do, the doctor felt the need to call Sam on it. Doctor Freemont regarded Sam and assessed how he thought the young man would take that sort of criticism. In the end he decided to leave his opinion unsaid. Sam was clearly upset about his brother's injury, why add a guilt trip to his woes.

Instead the doctor said, "This is going to be a slow process. When the injury has settled, we can decide on appropriate rehabilitation, but its going to be months before your brother is functioning anywhere close to normal."

Sam nodded grimly and looked at the doctor with intense hazel eyes filmed with unshed tears. "Can I see him?"

The doctor smiled. "Sure."

-------

Sam stepped slowly into the dimly lit room.

It was late, or early, depending on the point of view, past midnight, and Sam had to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the low light. His attention was immediately taken by the machines and monitors crowding around the bed on his which his brother lay, flashing lights and dispensing numbers. Sam was startled to see a heart monitor among them. The unexpectedness of it, the implication of it, knocked the wind out of him. He knew his brother had suffered a serious injury but it hadn't occurred to him that it could be life threatening. Could Dean die from this injury? Wouldn't the doctor have told him if that was a possibility?

Shifting his eyes from the equipment and onto his brother did nothing to alleviate Sam's concerns. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of tubes and wires snaking under the sheets. Sam wasn't sure what he had expected, Dean just laying in a bed maybe, but this... all the machinery... made Dean look frighteningly ill.

The young man swallowed against the rising fear and wondered how it had happened, how it had turned into this ordeal. Dean had just hit his back. There hadn't even been any blood. It was the most innocuous injury, with the most devastating result.

Sam stood still for a few minutes, taking in the scene, allowing a few tears to fall, giving voice to the pessimist in his head that cried _This is really serious._ _Dean may never be the same_. At least his brother wasn't on a ventilator, Sam took some comfort in that, he'd seen Dean in worse condition. With a deep bracing breath, he pulled himself together, brushed away the wetness and approached his brother's bed.

In the half light Sam couldn't tell if Dean had his eyes open or closed. He said quietly, "Hey."

There was no immediate response and Sam assumed his brother was asleep.

After the chaos of the emergency room, the trauma of being poked and prodded, the horror of being told he'd suffered a spinal cord injury which could result in permanent paralysis, Dean was appreciating the calm of the quiet room. He had drifted into a shallow sleep where he could hear the machines buzzing around him but his mind wandered, flitted through random thoughts. Sam's greeting brought him back to reality, reminded him that he was laying in a hospital bed. There was a cocktail of drugs running through his system that made it difficult to gather his thoughts, but he knew he wanted to be alone right now. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to share, wasn't interested in optimism or encouragement, he just wanted time by himself to deal with what was going on.

"Go away Sam," Dean whispered.

Sam wasn't sure he had heard his brother right. He peered into Dean's face and could see his eyes were open, but his gaze was distant, groggy. Sam doubted his brother knew where he was, what was going on, he dismissed the request to leave, assuming it was based in confusion.

He looked around for a chair on which to sit. "You got any chairs in here?" he muttered, just to break the silence. He spotted one in a darkened corner and pulled it close to the bedside, then sat down heavily and rested his hand on his brother's arm to let him know he was there. He didn't think Dean was in any condition for conversation which was probably just as well because Sam didn't know what to say. He hoped being nearby was enough comfort for his brother.

Struggling against the sluggishness in his mind, Dean was vaguely aware that Sam was sitting next to him, and he couldn't understand why. He wanted to be alone. Hadn't he just told his brother to go? Maybe he had thought it and hadn't verbalized. He wasn't sure if he'd actually said the words or not. It wasn't that Dean wanted his brother to go far. On the contrary he wanted Sam nearby, he wanted to know his brother was safe, because there was a demon out there who may be looking for them, so they had to stick together, watch each others backs. Then he remembered where he was, why he was there, and it hit him that he may not be able to watch his brother's back, he may no longer have the physical capacity to keep his brother safe. The knowledge sat on his chest like a crushing weight, difficult to breathe through. That was his role, that was the task his father had specifically given him, to keep his brother safe. If he couldn't carry out that role, then what good was he? And what would become of Sam? Dean tried to head off the tears he could feel stinging his eyes but they were already beyond his control and slipped down the side of his face.

This was why he needed to be alone. He hadn't had a chance to consider all the ramifications of his injury. With each new realization there was going to be an accompanying breakdown, he was feeling pretty fragile. Once he had considered all the consequences, then he could steel himself and put on a brave face, pretend he could cope. But he wanted the breakdowns to be in private, he didn't want his brother to witness the emotion, he hated revealing that side of himself, didn't like feeling weak.

_Just give me some time_ he silently pleaded with his brother. _Give me some time alone and_ _let me work through this_.

Sam heard his brother's breathing quicken and his eyes flew to the surrounding monitors, gauging whether he needed to call someone. He saw some numbers flicking, the heart rate monitor flutter a little, but nothing dramatic, no alarms sounded which he was relieved about. He stood up to get a better view of his brother, Dean's head was turned away, and the sight of tears streaming down his brother's face made him draw in a breath. He never knew how to react when Dean cried, it was so uncommon that he hadn't figured out the appropriate response.

"It's okay Dean," he said quietly. "I'm here, and you're fine, really, it's going to be okay."

Sam was pretty sure that wasn't helpful. _You're fine _bordered on insulting.

"Don't," Dean choked, closing his eyes, blocking out the platitudes and false hope. This was so very far from okay, and if Sam was going to try and convince him otherwise then clearly he was not grasping the situation. He was _paralyzed_. Things didn't get any worse than that. The doctor had said _maybe_, maybe it wasn't permanent, maybehe would recover, but it was impossible to believe when half of his body was dead. He would rather feel agonising pain than nothing at all. It was a scary sensation, the nothingness, like he'd been cut in half.

Sam's façade crumbled. He wanted to be strong but it just wasn't possible, he couldn't deny the emotion of the situation. As he wiped the tears from his brother's face, he was aware of his own tears spilling onto his cheeks.

Dean felt his brother's hand on his face and wished Sam would go. He wanted to release his grief but he felt guilty and self-conscious about the tears with Sam around, even in his drugged haze he couldn't allow himself to lose control with his brother watching.

"Go away Sam," Dean repeated.

This time Sam couldn't mistake the words, or the intention, Dean really wanted him to leave. He felt the rejection like a slap in the face. And was mystified as to _why?_ Why would Dean want him gone when he was so clearly upset. Sam was torn between doing as his brother asked and staying by his side. After a moment's indecision he said "I'm not going Dean. I'm not going to leave. I can help you get through this. We'll deal with it together." He gently squeezed Dean's shoulder.

The older brother felt a helpless fury at being denied the privacy he wanted. And there was nothing he could do about it. No way he could eject Sam from the room. It caused a wave of despair to wash over him. It wasn't enough that he had his physical injuries and mental anguish to deal with, now he also had to deal with his brother's misplaced devotion. It was too much.

Dean edged his hand out of his brother's grasp. The only place available to him where he could be by himself was sleep, so he forcibly calmed himself, chewed on the inside of his lip until the pain of that distracted him from everything else, and when his emotions were back under control Dean listened to the sound of the machines buzzing around him until their rhythmic tone lulled him into the sleep he so desperately craved.


	5. Chapter 5

This is a pretty heavy chapter, I know. The story's going to lighten up soon. Kinda.

* * *

Chapter 5

Light was starting to filter through the blinds when for the hundredth time Sam squirmed on his chair trying to find a more comfortable position. He'd managed to catch a few minutes sleep here and there, but between the uncomfortable chair, nurses coming in regularly to check on Dean, thoughts whirling through his head about his brother's emotional breakdown and his latent concern about how Lisa was faring, the young hunter had found sleep near impossible to find.

As he wriggled on his chair looking for a sustainable position, the door opened quietly and Lisa appeared with a young boy clinging tightly to her neck.

Sam sighed with relief when he saw Lisa's face. Thank God she was alright. One less thing he had to worry about. He jumped up and hurried over to her, ushering her out of the room and into the hallway.

"I was getting worried about you," he chided in a hushed voice.

"I know," she answered apologetically. "I came back as quickly as I could, but I wanted to pack a few things, I wasn't sure how long we were going to be away." Lisa hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if Sam offered a time frame. When he didn't she continued, "This is Tommy." The little boy was buried in her neck and she swung around to give Sam a better view but all he could see was blonde hair. Sam smiled and nodded politely, the kid was probably cute, but he wasn't really interested right now.

"How is he?" Lisa asked, tilting her head toward Dean's room.

Sam wasn't sure how to answer that question. "He's…" What? Paralysed? Destroyed? Devoid of hope? "He's okay. The injury to his back was pretty serious. He's lost feeling in his legs."

"Oh my God!" Lisa exclaimed. She looked shell shocked, like she needed to sit down and not for the first time Sam wondered about her connection to Dean. For someone who had a three day relationship with his brother four years ago she seemed to have enduring feelings for him.

Lisa didn't know what to say to Sam. She was stunned that Dean was so badly injured and a little ashamed at how unkindly she had thought of him in the car. Looking back, if Dean was passing out in the back seat of course he had to be badly injured, she had been so caught up in her anger toward him, and worry for both herself and her son, that his condition hadn't really registered.

The young woman managed to fumble out a lame, _"_I'm sorry_,"_ to Sam, but knew it was grossly inadequate. Dean had been injured saving her life and she felt like she should offer more than an apology, she just didn't know what. Unconsciously her grip tightened on the little boy sleeping in her arms as she waited for Sam to tell her more. When he didn't, and they stood looking awkwardly at each other she said, "I've got to find a bed for Tommy or he'll be a nightmare later. Is there one I can use around here?"

"I think you should go and find a motel," Sam answered. "I'll come and crash there later, and we can talk about where we go from here."

The young woman looked uncertain. "Are you sure it's safe? Maybe I should stay at the hospital with you."

"No," Sam assured. "You'll be much safer at a motel than here, I mean look at all these people walking around, the demon could be in any of them."

"What?" Lisa didn't know enough about this demon business to understand how it all worked. Was the guy in the suit here already? How had he found them? Surely he wouldn't try anything in a hospital? She looked nervously at the people moving around her.

"I don't think the demon is here now," Sam added, noticing Lisa's eyes darting from side to side. "Just find a motel, somewhere on the outskirts of town, and call me." He had already written his phone number on a piece of paper and now pushed it into her hand.

"Lisa?" Sam wanted to make sure the young woman was listening for his next set of instructions. He continued only when their eyes were locked. "On the way to the motel you need to stop and get a large canister of salt." Sam knew there was salt in the trunk of the car but he didn't want Lisa poking around in there. "When you get to the room, you need to pour that salt on the floor in an unbroken line in front of all the windows and external doors." He tried to read her face to make sure she had understood the instructions.

Lisa frowned slightly. Salt on the floor? What the hell was with that? Sam was looking at her intently so she knew it had to be important. "Salt on the floor," she repeated.

"In an unbroken line," Sam prompted.

"In an unbroken line."

"In front of all the windows and external doors."

"In front of all the windows and external doors. Got it." This whole situation was weird. Man she couldn't wait for it to be over. She wanted to ask what the salt was all about but she was tired, Tommy was heavy and Sam looked stressed. She'd ask about it later.

Lisa made to leave and then stopped. There was something about Sam that made her think he needed company. Maybe it was the stance or the look in his eye but she was in two minds about going. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

Sam would have loved to have someone to talk to right now, but he wanted her safely holed up in a motel room. Worrying about her safety was only going to distract him from worrying about Dean, so he said, "No. Just go and take care of your son. We'll talk later."

Lisa nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. "I'll call you later."

-----

Those first few days in the hospital were tough for both brothers. Dean slept a lot which suited him fine. He preferred the escape of his unconscious to the reality of laying in bed feeling dull and incomplete.

When he did wake up, his first act was always to try and shift his legs and when he couldn't, a little voice would whisper _You need to get used to this, its not getting any better. This is how you're going to be from now on_. And even though he knew that wasn't necessarily so, while he had no control over his legs it was easy to believe the inner pessimist was right.

There was so much for Dean to consider and it was so difficult for him to do it when the drugs were making his mind work at half speed. It was taking much longer than it should for him to process his thoughts. He was aware of Sam nearby, talking to him but if he tried to concentrate on both what Sam was saying and what was going on in his head his mind whirled uselessly with too much information, he didn't have the capacity for more than one thing at a time. So he blocked out Sam, stopped trying to process his words. He knew his brother was only going to offer him platitudes, warm and fuzzy sentiments, touchy feely crap, and he didn't really need that right now, what he needed was to make sense of the injury he had suffered, come to terms with the possible consequences and understand what it could mean for his future.

Dean gave his subconscious free reign to sort through what was going on but his subconscious soon had him reeling with its cruelty. Thoughts ran through his head that were harsh and unforgiving, tormenting him with a litany of things he may never do again, with images of an undignified life in a wheelchair and with suggestions that Sam was going to grow tired of his burden very quickly and move on. His inner self preyed on his weaknesses and exploited his fears, it knew just which buttons to push to cut him to the quick.

The things he was saying to himself were devastatingly hurtful. _Just being honest _his subconscious justified for telling him things like he was now a liability, he was now useless as a hunter, he was going to be a pale imitation of his former self, he was a joke.

_You don't want to live like that, _a voice whispered. Y_ou don't have to live like that,_ it hinted, planting an insidious seed, _you don't have to live at all_.

Dean started to drown in his negativity. For every hopeful thought that entered his head, there were a dozen negative thoughts to beat it down. Too late he realized that he needed his brother, he needed some warm and fuzzy, but having turned this subconscious tap on, he could not turn it off and he couldn't get away from it. He was swamped by his inner demons dragging him down, refusing to allow him any peace.

A few times Dean tried to break free of his turmoil and reach out to Sam, but every time Dean made eye contact with his brother a little voice would say _Don't look at him. He can't help you. He's walking around, how can he possibly understand? _And that little voice had Dean retreating back inside himself. Of course his brother couldn't help, how could he? There was no point reaching out. Dean would sink back into his torment, unable to make out what his brother was saying over the dire predictions and hopeless outcomes that were being shouted at him from within.

The constant internal struggle was exhausting. After ten minutes of wakefulness, Dean felt shaky and weak, his confidence was in pieces and his emotions bubbled dangerously close to the surface. And there was a latent nausea plaguing him. Dean didn't know if it was a reaction to his mental anguish or a side effect of the medication, but it served to underscore how wretched he felt. Physically and mentally he was a mess. He couldn't wait for sleep to revisit him and take him away from this awful reality.

While Dean slept, Sam tried to figure out how to help his brother. Since that first short emotional exchange, Dean had been silent. Every time he woke up, Sam tried to talk to him, but Dean was completely unresponsive. It was like he couldn't hear. His older brother would fix his blank eyes on a point in the room, a slight frown on his face and then be lost within himself.

The first few times Dean had woken up and Sam had been ignored, the younger brother had wondered if Dean was punishing him for not leaving the room when he'd asked. He thought his brother might be annoyed with him. But he soon dismissed that idea. There were bigger things going on here than Sam refusing to leave his brother's side. And Dean didn't look pissed off, he looked haunted, dazed, wrecked.

It was more likely that his older brother's quiet was an indication he was trying to come to terms with his injury. Dean needed time to sort it out in his head, Sam could understand that. On the catastrophe scale, a crippling injury was the big one, it was probably the worst thing that could happen to Dean. He was a physical guy, in a lot of ways his physicality defined him. Sam wasn't surprised that his older brother was struggling to cope with his predicament, it was a lot to take in.

But when the unresponsiveness continued into a second day, Sam became worried. Sorting things out was taking too long. Something was wrong, Dean was mired down and Sam started to think his brother needed help. He really wanted to find a way to penetrate the wall that surrounded Dean but he needed his brother to give him an opening. At the moment Sam was standing helplessly on the outside looking in. Dean was shut tight.

A few times the injured man made eye contact with his younger brother, even sought him out, and on those occasions Sam would say to himself _Okay, he's with me now, here's my chance_ and would try to get through to his brother with gentle reassurance. But Dean's eyes were never truly focused or aware and the eye contact never lasted more than a few seconds before Dean's gaze shifted and he drifted back into somewhere unreachable. Sam doubted that his words had any effect, he wasn't even sure they had been heard.

What was even worse were the occasions when a tear trickled down Dean's cheek and Sam didn't know why. The first time it happened Sam thought his brother might be in pain and called a nurse, but she had checked the patient and assured Sam that his brother was receiving the maximum amount of pain relief, he wouldn't be feeling any discomfort. When it happened again Sam knew something was going on in Dean's head and it killed the younger brother not knowing exactly what it was. What was he thinking about that was so upsetting? What was he telling himself? _Tell me what you're thinking_ he wanted to yell. He wanted to shake the words out of his brother. But instead he would take the injured man's hand, talk to him quietly, try to convince him that it was too early to give up hope, assure him that things would improve. He didn't know if it helped, he wasn't sure it was even registering with Dean, but he needed to feel useful.

Sam tried to find a way to combat the unresponsiveness. If his brother was having trouble coming to terms with his injury, then maybe he needed to think about something else. Sam reminisced about past hunts they had been on. He would pose a question about the hunt, pretend he couldn't remember a detail, even tell the story wrong to see if his brother would correct him, but he was always met with silence. He would mention good looking women they had met, Hayley, Sarah, Jo and was astounded when that failed to produce a response. He baited his older brother with things he knew would ordinarily produce a smart ass comment, but he got nothing, not even an acknowledgment.

The younger brother felt inadequate and hopelessly out of his depth. He didn't know if Dean's behaviour was related to the drugs he was on, or if it was something personal. He asked a couple of nurses in a roundabout way if this sort of unresponsiveness was normal, he didn't want to open up some psychiatric can of worms so he kept his questions vague, and the nurses replied in their own roundabout way that everybody reacted differently to the drugs and the type of injury, that Dean would probably come around eventually. But the longer it went on, the more uneasy Sam became about it.

Being paralysed was a shock, Sam could understand that, but the situation was going to improve, the Doctor had said it would. Did Dean know that? Had the doctor told _him_ things would improve? Or was he laying there silently thinking that this was his life now?

With Dean not talking, Sam didn't know how much his brother knew about his injury and he had no way to gauge what was going through his brother's mind. It frustrated the hell out of him and it scared him to death.

In that same period, Sam established a routine with Lisa. Sam would spend the day at the hospital with Dean then go to the motel at night for a meal with Lisa and Tommy. After spending a couple of hours at the motel, he would return to the hospital to spend the evening with Dean then back to the motel to sleep.

When Lisa checked into the motel she had only taken one room. There was some discussion about whether Sam should sleep in a second room but Lisa had wanted them all together. She could keep her nervousness under control during the day, but at night she wanted to know Sam was close. There were two king beds in the room, Sam slept in one, Lisa and Tommy in the other. It was agreed, though, that when Dean came out of the hospital they would get a second room for Sam and Dean to stay in.

Every time Sam left Dean's hospital room to join Lisa and Tommy at the motel, he walked out the door with a heavy heart and a truckload of guilt. He suspected that he was doing the wrong thing, Lisa and Tommy would be fine, it was Dean that needed him. But he had to find some balance between the competing interests. The brothers had imposed themselves on Lisa, forced her into hiding and he couldn't just say to her _You're on your own now._ He had a responsibility to see this thing through, make sure she was safe, protect her from the demon that wanted her dead.

The first time Sam had joined Lisa at the motel they had greeted each other awkwardly. They were still strangers, they'd shared only a handful of conversations, and now they were room-mates. He had left his seriously ill brother to spend time with a woman he barely knew. The world seemed out of kilter. It had taken all of Sam's willpower not to say _I see that you're fine, I'm going back to my brother now._ But this was about more than seeing Lisa was fine, he reminded himself, he could have just called her to know she was fine. This was about giving her some support. And it was also about giving himself a break, letting himself recharge and return to his brother mentally stronger. He forced himself to put a smile on his face and push thoughts of his brother to the back of his mind.

Tommy was initially uncertain of Sam. He hung shyly around Lisa's legs looking at Sam with the protection of his mother's arm around him. Lisa introduced the young boy to Sam and he timidly gave a Hello, but he kept a firm grip on his mother.

"How's Dean?" Lisa asked, but Sam shook his head and cast his eyes at Tommy. "We'll talk about it later," Sam replied. He was using Tommy as an excuse for not getting into what was going on at the hospital, but truthfully Sam just wanted to forget about it for a while, he needed something to take his mind off his worries, then he would be ready to face it again.

He spent the next hour playing games with the little boy. Tommy had immediately got over his shyness when Sam suggested they play something together. The little boy had quickly pulled out his Go Fish card game and after a couple of hands Tommy switched his attention to some Thomas the Tank Engine trains. The kid seemed unperturbed by the change in his surroundings, by having a strange man playing trains with him. He didn't ask any questions about it, he just accepted it and interacted with Sam with easy going chatter and unselfconscious enjoyment.

The atmosphere at the motel was so different from the atmosphere of Dean's hospital room. Sam could tell Lisa was tense, there was a slight stiffness to her movements, but she played her part in this little familial scene, answering Tommy's many questions, involving Sam in unimportant conversations, smiling and laughing. Sam found it all a bit bizarre. Dean was seriously injured in a hospital, Lisa was targeted for death, but they were playing happy families like nothing was wrong. And it was strangely comforting. The young hunter could feel himself unknotting. The deep depression that had settled on him lifted slightly.

But even though Sam was enjoying interacting with Tommy and Lisa, he couldn't keep his concern for Dean buried. When Tommy went to sleep, Lisa and Sam talked in depth about the injured man. Sam told Lisa everything that was going on at the hospital, he unloaded all this thoughts and fears onto her, looking for explanations, solutions and reassurance. It helped that Lisa had a history with Dean, it meant he didn't have to explain things about his brother, she already knew what he was like. And because she was the subject of a demon attack, he didn't have to watch what he said about hunting, he could talk without inhibition because she was involved in that world now.

Although Lisa had her own fears and concerns to deal with, she gave Sam her full attention. She could see that Sam was quietly falling apart and she shored him up as best she could. She gave the young man the encouragement he clearly required, assured him that he was doing all the right things for his brother. She tried to give him what he needed so he could go back and face the anguish that awaited him at the hospital.

Sam never lost the guilt about nightly leaving his brother's side but during that period when Dean wasn't talking and Sam was becoming desperate with worry he appreciated the time he spent with Lisa and Tommy. They were a breath of fresh air for him, helped eased his heavy burden and provided him with an opportunity to relax, pull himself together and get some perspective. He was grateful for the diversion.

But still he longed to have his brother back. There were things Lisa couldn't help him with, like what they were going to do about the demon. He needed big brother's advice and he waited with increasing alarm and impatience for some sort of breakthrough in Dean's condition.


	6. Chapter 6

Thankyou all for sticking with this story. A little bit more Dean angst for you.

* * *

Chapter 6 

Dean woke in the early hours of the morning with darkness surrounding him. As was his habit, his first act was to try and move his legs and when he failed that test, he was immediately assaulted by his subconscious. _Why do you keep trying to move your legs? You know they're never going to work. Man you're a slow learner. _

He sighed inwardly. He was tired of the internal treachery. He was worn down by it. Where was it all coming from? When was it going to end? Sarcasm and criticism aimed at himself really sucked. He needed a break from the mental torture. He needed a distraction.

In the dim light he gazed around the room seeking his brother. Maybe he could keep his inner voice at bay long enough to have a conversation. God he hoped so. He'd had enough of being stuck inside himself, he really wanted to talk to Sam. But a visual sweep of the room revealed his brother was absent. Dean didn't know exactly what time it was, but he guessed it was after midnight and wondered where Sam would be this late, why wasn't he here? He hadn't heard Sam tell him that he was spending the overnights at the motel. He didn't know that this was the second night he had been alone, and that his brother would be back in the morning.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for Sam not being here, Dean considered the possibilities. Maybe it was against hospital policy to have visitors so late, maybe the staff wouldn't let him stay, maybe he was down the hall getting coffee, maybe he was sleeping on a couch in the waiting area, Dean's mind turned over a myriad of logical reasons that would explain Sam's absence, but still he felt disquieted, a niggling anxiety thrummed against his ribs.

He was alone in this room.

He was alone and barely able to move.

And it made him keenly aware of his vulnerability. It wasn't that he felt threatened or in danger, it was more that he felt woefully incapable and isolated. In his current state he couldn't do anything for himself, couldn't get himself a drink, couldn't reach for his phone, couldn't even pull himself higher on the pillows, he was completely dependent. He was surprised that Sam would leave him to fend for himself. It worried him that Sam would leave him to fend for himself because that said something about Sam's commitment to him.

Then a little voice whispered _Sam's abandoned you. He's got his own problems, he couldn't deal with yours as well. You're on your own. Deal with it._

Dean didn't want to believe it but the little voice in his head was strident, adamant. _You're on your own. You're on your own. Deal with it._

The hunter ground the heel of his palms into his eyes trying to stop the negativity. He was sick of the poisonous dialogue running through his head, sick of laying pathetically still in a bed, sick of not being able to think straight, sick of not being able to connect with his brother, sick of the hopeless pessimism that was emotionally crippling him. He was pissed off at the hand he had been dealt. He couldn't believe that this whole predicament resulted from falling back into a counter top. God that was lame. That was possibly the lamest way to suffer a serious injury that he had ever heard of. He was being mocked. Life was mocking him.

As his anger gathered momentum Dean could feel that he was losing his grip on the emotion that he had barely managed to contain over the last two days. But he didn't care. He was all alone, so what if he lost control. He probably couldn't have stopped this runaway train even if he wanted to.

The subject of his discontent widened to include everything he hated about his life. He was pissed off that the yellow eyed demon had killed his mother. He would have been a different person if she had lived, would have lived a completely different life, might have achieved happiness. He was pissed off that Sam was being tormented by visions. What had his brother done to deserve that? It was a cruel joke to lumber a sensitive guy with gruesome predictions of death. He was pissed off that his father had sacrificed himself in order that his eldest son may live. That one cut deep. As much as Dean tried to put himself in his father's shoes, he couldn't understand his father making a deal with the demon that had been his worst enemy for twenty years. He couldn't figure out why his father thought Dean was more deserving of life than himself. And look what had come of it. Not even a year after his father's death and his sacrifice was for nothing, his great white hope was sidelined with a debilitating injury.

As tears started to fall, he railed against the suffering in his life, damned fate for it. He couldn't see how he and Sam would ever get out from under this cursed existence, they were doomed to lead a tormented life. It was all so unfair. All so undeserved.

The bitterness poured out of him in a flood. His emotion overwhelmed him and became so intense that he struggled to breathe, he couldn't catch his breath as wave after wave of misery swept through him. There was a painful weight on his chest squeezing too tight and he wondered if he was having a heart attack. In a panic he thought he may be dying and even though the idea of ending it all had crossed his mind over the past few days, he hadn't made the decision that was what he wanted.

A nurse rushed into his room, having being alerted at her station that his vital signs had spiked suddenly. The nurse, Bev, was alarmed at the young man's distress. Dean was hyperventilating, his body was rigid, one arm hugged his chest and his face was contorted in pain.

Bev stood beside Dean and placed her hand on the arm across his chest to let him know she was there. "Dean?" she called.

Stricken eyes locked onto her, pleading with her to help even as a voice ran through his mind asking _what's the point?_

"You need to slow your breathing," she directed. "Listen to my voice. Follow my rhythm. Breathe in…..Breathe out…..Breathe in…..Breathe out."

Dean was lightheaded. He tried to follow her instructions, he had the rhythm in his head but he couldn't coordinate it with his breathing.

"Come on Dean. In….Out…." His breathing wasn't improving and Bev grabbed his hand to reinforce her 'ins' and 'outs' by pressing his hand for in, releasing the pressure for out. She continued her rhythmic guidance until gradually the inhalations slowed, the timing between breaths lengthened, and after some very long minutes Dean was back under control breathing normally.

Tears streamed down the young man's face. He brought his hand up to wipe them away and then kept the hand over his eyes as he fought to end the episode. The tightness in his chest had abated but a violent trembling racked his body. He tried to ignore his shaking body as he concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even.

"Just relax Dean," the nurse soothed. "Breathe deeply. You're okay. It'll be over in a minute."

Bev watched the injured man carefully until she was sure that the attack had passed. Dean looked so dejected and miserable that Bev's heart broke for him. "What happened?" she asked softly. "What brought all that on?"

Dean took his hand away from his eyes and regarded the nurse forlornly. He was afraid that if he cast his mind to what had started that meltdown it was going to be triggered all over again. He shook his head at the nurse wearily.

"Are you in any pain? Do you want me to call the doctor?" she asked.

Another shake of the head.

"Do you want me to call your brother?"

Dean's lip quivered and he brought his hand up to cover his eyes again. That's what had sparked this whole thing, Sam not being here and at the thought of his brother's desertion tears started flowing again. His emotions were so raw, so close to the surface he felt like he could lose it any minute. He managed to shake his head a third time in answer to the nurse's question.

"Oh Dean," Bev sighed. She'd been keeping an eye on the young man since he'd been brought into her ward. She could see that he wasn't coping with his injury and had hoped he'd be able to sort himself out. But for some reason he hadn't been able to rise above his despondency, and now she thought it was time for some tough talking.

The nurse placed her hand onto Dean's chest and shook him slightly to get his attention. When he brought his hand away from his sorrowful eyes she said firmly but gently, "You need to pull yourself together. I've had patients with no feeling from the neck down, breathing through a tube, who have coped better than you. Your injury hasn't even settled yet, and you're acting like it's the end of the world. You've got a long road ahead and you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Dean closed his eyes. He knew she was right, he couldn't go on like this. He didn't want to be this weak, emotional person, it was so far from his usual demeanour, it wasn't like him at all. But he didn't know what he was supposed to do, he couldn't get a handle on this situation.

Suddenly Dean heard his father's voice from twenty years ago. _If you've got a problem you face it and move on._ _Suck it up and act like a man._

Dean realized his father would be horrified if he could see his eldest son right now. Caving in to his insecurities, letting his emotion get the better of him, that was not how he had been raised. He was upset by the thought that his father would be disappointed in him and he felt the grief rising again, but this time he forced it back down. Starting now he was going to toughen up.

The situation was what it was. He had to accept it and not be so hard on himself. He vowed he wasn't going to allow the inner dialogue to rule him anymore, he wasn't going to allow it to undermine him. As he drifted into an exhausted sleep he felt resigned to whatever fate had in store for him.

"Thankyou," Dean whispered. He wanted to say more but sleep was too insistent.

The nurse gave her charge a pat on the hand. "Glad I could help," she said with a concerned glance at the sleeping man.

-----

When he next woke Dean felt more in control of himself. He failed the leg shifting test again but he wouldn't let the inner pessimist take a hold of him. He was disappointed he still couldn't move, but beating himself up about it wasn't going to achieve anything. He just had to be patient about his recovery.

Sam was nearby. Dean felt a deep gratitude to his brother for coming back. Even though he hadn't really believed Sam had dumped him, he knew that he could, Sam didn't have to come back and he appreciated his brother making the decision to be here.

As a result of Dean's failure to communicate, Sam had started to talk in a stream of consciousness, basically providing a commentary to his life. Everything he was seeing, everything he was doing, he vocalized, just to fill in the silence, never requiring or expecting a response. Dean listened in quiet amusement to his brother. He had never heard Sam talk so much crap before.

The injured man wasn't sure that he wanted to converse with his brother yet. His mind still felt hazy and slow, he didn't think he could keep up with a conversation. Dean felt drained. He couldn't understand how he could be so sapped of energy when he was sleeping all the time. He was content listening to Sam chatter, visually following his brother around the room. He hadn't been able to hear Sam the past few days and it was comforting to hear his voice now.

Bev came in to check on Dean. She was nearing the end of her shift and she wanted to see how the young man was faring. As she drew near, Dean gave her a tired smile.

"Morning Bev," he said, his voice weak and croaky from lack of use.

"Morning Dean," she replied returning his smile. _He's turned a corner_, she thought, and patted his hand affectionately. "You okay? You need anything before I leave?"

The injured man shook his head.

From across the room, Sam's mouth was agape. Did Dean just say good morning? The young man waited for the nurse to leave then sidled over to his brother's bedside.

"Hey," Dean greeted him.

"Hey," Sam automatically responded while his mind reeled at this change in his brother. All of a sudden he was talking now? What happened?

Sam stood looking at his brother not sure what he wanted to say. Did he want to bring up the fact that Dean hadn't spoken in two days?

"What?" the injured man asked.

"What? Are you serious? I mean…..Jeez……" Sam was lost for words. He was thrilled that Dean was communicating but he'd just spent two days talking to himself trying to bring his brother out of some dark place, 'Hey' didn't seem to cover it. Maybe Dean didn't remember. Maybe he didn't even realise he hadn't spoken in two days. Maybe the drugs had him so confused he didn't know what was going on. Sam decided he didn't want his first conversation with his brother to be a scolding about not communicating.

"How do you feel?" the younger brother asked and peered closely into the injured man's face. Dean was ashen and his eyelids were heavy, but there was a clarity to his eyes that was new.

"Tired. Really tired. And a bit groggy. Just talk slow."

"Okay." Sam felt a bit emotional about how weak and helpless his brother looked. Dean was the leader, the man of action and it seemed so wrong that he was laying still in a bed struggling to keep up. Sam swallowed. This was his opportunity to say all the things he'd been wanting to say in the last two days, he had to keep it together.

"Dean, I'm really sorry."

Confusion crossed Dean's face. "What did you do?"

"A lot of things." Sam gave a short laugh as he thought about giving Lisa the keys to the Impala. He wasn't going to be spilling his guts about that one. "I'm just sorry about getting you into this. And about the way it all worked out."

"Yeah," Dean whispered and closed his eyes. He really didn't want to talk about it. But then he thought _this is the sort of stuff I need to be facing._ So he opened his eyes and looked at his brother. "Its just one of those things."

Sam exhaled and shook his head. It was tough writing off this injury as _just one of those_ _things_. "I still think its going to end up okay. The doctor said you should start to recover some feeling soon. He thinks you're going to make a full recovery." That was a half lie. The doctor thought Dean would make a substantial recovery but he was still using the words 'permanent effects'. Sam kicked himself for trying to sugar coat the truth, Dean deserved better than that.

When Dean didn't respond, Sam panicked at the thought that his older brother was becoming unresponsive again. "Dean?" he prompted.

"Yeah, I heard you Sam. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Okay?"

"Alright," the younger man agreed with a lump in his throat. A resigned Dean was as bad as an uncommunicative Dean. It was unnerving seeing his brother without any fight in him.

"What happened with Lisa?" Dean changed the subject.

"Lisa's fine. She's holed up in a motel with her son. She's being pretty brave about it all but I know she's scared about the demon catching up with her. We're going to need to talk about that. Not today," Sam added hastily, seeing that his brother's lids were getting heavier, "but sometime soon."

Holed up with her son? Dean didn't even know she had a son. When did her son enter the equation? Why would Sam allow a kid into the picture when they were dealing with a demon? It was all too much for Dean's weary mind, he'd think about it later, he couldn't keep sleep at bay any longer and he let his eyes slide shut.

Over the course of the day the brothers slowly reconnected. Sam did most of the talking but that was okay because he knew his brother was listening. And Dean interjected enough that it wasn't a one sided conversation.

There were two topics that Sam avoided. Dean's injury and the demon that was after Lisa. Sam was worried that if he mentioned a topic that was painful he may push his brother back into the cave he had emerged from. So he kept the topics light and talked mainly about Tommy and Lisa. After a while he became a little self conscious that he may be talking too much about them and changed the subject.

By the time Sam left for dinner at the motel that night, he was feeling better about everything. He had just seen Dean pick at some food for the first time, his older brother was conversing more, even throwing out the occasional sarcasm, he seemed stronger and more engaged. There was still no improvement in Dean's injury but the younger man was confident it was close, he had faith in the doctor's prediction that his older brother was going to recover some mobility soon.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm flattered to see you all still with me, thanks for reading.

I thought it was time to cut Dean a break, so try not to get too caught up in the medical aspects of the story and just enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 7

Early the next morning, when Dean gave himself the customary leg shifting test, to his surprise he didn't fail. Not entirely anyway. He suspected he was wiggling his toes although he couldn't be sure with the bed covers blanketing his feet. He stared at the covers trying to make out if there was any rustle of movement at the end of the bed, but it was so far away and so difficult to detect.

He needed to get the covers off his feet to give himself a proper test, to really see what was going on. He pushed the bedding down to his waist and then found the sheets too firmly tucked to go any further. He grasped a handful of the sheets in his left hand and tried to jerk the bedding out from under the mattress, but the sheets were stuck tight. He tried it again and again without any advancement until he growled in frustration.

The injured man lay panting, annoyed at being thwarted by bedding. He knew that he was pulling upward on the sheet when he needed to be pulling outward, he was never going to succeed this way. A handrail dangled above him and he came up with a new plan. Pull himself into a sitting position, then try and loosen the sheets. He reached up his right arm to grab the rail but as his back started to lift off the mattress stabbing pains went up and down his spine and he quickly pulled his arm back to his side. As the pain subsided he thought _I can handle that. _He took some deep breaths, gathered his strength and prepared for his next assault. Slowly he raised his right arm toward the handrail and when he was on the cusp of lifting his back off the bed he hesitated for a moment to brace himself, then made a fast grab for the rail. His back screamed at him to lay down but he tightened his grip and started pulling himself upward. He powered through the pain in his back and dizziness so intense he could barely see, but when throwing up became a real possibility he had to admit defeat and released his grip on the handrail. He flopped back onto the pillows, gasping for air and swallowing to keep the nausea at bay.

When Dean had recovered himself he considered his options. He was possibly on the verge of something momentous and being unable to verify because he couldn't free his feet from the bedding threw him into a quiet rage. He hated being helpless. And it was untucking sheets, for crying out loud, he shouldn't need help with that. He could either keep trying to do this himself, call in a nurse or wait for Sam. After mulling over the options he decided that the likelihood of being able to untuck the sheets himself all the way to the end of the bed were slim, so he should just save his energy; he didn't want to call in a nurse especially to uncover his feet because that was kind of pathetic, but if one happened to come in he would ask them for help, otherwise he would wait for Sam.

Having chosen his course of action, the minutes ticked by very slowly. Expectation gave him a nervous energy that had him on edge. He turned on the tv looking for something to distract him, but couldn't concentrate on what was on the screen. As fifteen minutes turned into half and hour he started grinding his teeth and cursing his brother for being so slow. He didn't know what time Sam usually arrived in the morning, he hadn't been awake for his arrival thus far, but Sam was always up at the crack of dawn, so right now he had to be stuffing around with Lisa and Tommy. Dean felt a pang of resentment toward the two interlopers. His brother should be here with him, not enjoying himself with some chick and her brat.

When half an hour later Dean heard the door swish open, he had worked himself into a foul mood.

"Where've you been?" Dean snapped as his brother walked through the door. "Come over here."

"Ahh…Okay," Sam said slowly, Dean's ill humour immediately apparent. "What's going on?"

"I need you to take off the bed covers."

"What for?"

"Just do it," Dean replied tersely.

Sam stood at Dean's waist and took a firm hold of the covers. "Do you want them all the way off?"

"Nah, go to the end of the bed and just take them off my feet."

As Sam moved to the end of the bed he asked again, "What's going on?"

"Just shut up and do it."

Sam raised his eyebrows at the rebuke. Ordinarily that sort of comment would have him backing away from whatever his brother wanted him to do, but he was willing to cut his brother some slack at the moment given the situation.

Sam struggled to pull the covers out from under the mattress. Boy these things were tucked in tight, the staff seemed to take the possibility of patients falling out of bed very seriously. After pulling out one corner he heard an impatient, "Have you done it yet?"

The young man gritted his teeth, "No clearly I have not done it yet. I'm working on it."

"Hurry it up will you?"

Sam bit back the retort he wanted to make determined to stay cool. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me why I'm doing this."

"I just want to see something," was the evasive answer.

Sam was pulling at the sheets but with Dean's weight sitting on top of them it was taking a mammoth effort to dislodge.

"Jesus Sam, it's untucking sheets. What's your problem?"

Sam could feel Dean's bad temper rubbing off onto him, and it took all of his effort not to snap back at his brother. He continued straining until finally the sheets came free of the mattress.

The young hunter was puffing and straightened up to take in some breaths. "There you go," he gasped. He folded the covers over his brother's legs revealing his feet.

"You need to work out more," was his thankyou.

"I'll get right on it."

Dean focused on his now visible toes and felt his stomach churn at the thought that he may have been mistaken before, he may have imagined his feet moving. He closed his eyes for a second to gather the strength he would need for that sort of disappointment, then opened them and sent the mental message for his toes to move.

Sam could see the concentration on his brother's face and without having to ask he knew what Dean was trying to do. He stared at his brother's feet, willing them to move.

There was a slight flicker from the big toe on Dean's left foot and Sam held his breath, waiting to see if there was more to follow. The big toe moved again this time in a more controlled down and up movement. Then the whole foot moved just slightly toward the right foot.

"Hey you did it," Sam said understatedly, flashing his brother a huge grin while resisting the urge to run around the room cheering wildly. "Can you do the other one?"

Relief had exploded inside Dean, numbing his senses and making him feel faint. He closed his eyes for a second to get a grip then opened them ready to find out the extent of the abilities in his right foot. He was rewarded with movement similar to that in his left.

"Yep," Sam confirmed. "Oh dude, that's awesome." The younger man could feel emotion welling inside him. He gave his brother a smile with a sheen of tears in his eyes, then turned and walked toward the window to compose himself. As he rested his hands on the sill he let the enormity of what had just happened wash over him. Dean wasn't paralysed. And if he wasn't paralysed then Sam knew he was going to be walking around again soon, despite whatever 'permanent effects' the doctor predicted. Dean wasn't going to be happy with some half assed recovery, he was going to push himself until he was the same man he had been before the accident, he couldn't stand the dissatisfaction of being something less.

Dean was feeling the same enormity of the moment as Sam was. "Thank God," he muttered. All those awful thoughts and images that had flashed through his mind since the accident could now be dismissed. He wasn't going to become irrelevant, he wasn't going to be an invalid, he was still a player in the game, he still had something to offer.

The nervous energy that had been sustaining Dean drained from him and he felt the familiar exhaustion invade. Sleep was pulling at him and he tried to fight it off a little while longer.

Feeling composed Sam turned back to his brother and said, "So we know you have movement, do you have feeling as well?"

Dean's eyebrows raised, it hadn't crossed his mind that he could have one without the other. "I don't know."

Sam walked back to his brother's bedside and asked, "Can you feel this?" The younger man brought his fist down on Dean's left ankle, then blanched when he saw his brother take an involuntary breath and his hands clutch at the sheets beside him. Sam hadn't hit very hard and he certainly hadn't intended to cause his brother pain, he just wanted to give Dean a good chance at feeling his touch.

When Dean had recovered himself Sam asked weakly, "So you felt that?"

Dean gave his brother a withering look. "Loud and clear idiot."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?"

Dean thinned his lips and gave his brother a nod of the head. The hit hadn't really hurt, it was more the jump in surprise that had caused him pain.

"Do you want me to try the other leg?" Sam offered.

"Do you want me to punch you in the face?"

Sam raised his hands in surrender. "I can be gentle."

Dean grunted but figured they might as well make this test complete. "Okay, but be careful," he gave his brother a threatening look.

This time Sam put his fingers around Dean's right ankle and squeezed. "Can you feel that?"

Dean frowned. "I think so. Take your hand away." Sam released his grip on Dean's ankle and looked at his brother expectantly. Dean was still frowning, concentrating. "Put your hand back," he directed. Sam put his fingers around Dean's ankle and squeezed again. This time there was no hesitation from Dean, "Yeah I can feel that."

"So you have feeling and movement," Sam summarized. "Dude that's excellent."

The younger brother felt elated for his older brother and gave a silent prayer of thanks to whoever might be watching over Dean. This had been a close call, and even though Dean still had a long way to go before he was back to normal, Sam was eternally grateful that the opportunity for recovery was now there.

"Is the show over? Can I put the covers back."

"Yeah."

Sam could see the strain on his brother's face, he could see that he was fading. "I should call Lisa and tell her about this," Sam said off handedly.

Dean bristled at the suggestion. His struggles were personal and he didn't like the idea of some chick he really didn't know being kept informed. If he hadn't been so tired and strung out he might have appreciated that Sam was getting close to a woman, something Dean constantly nagged him to do, but that aspect didn't occur to the injured man and his bad temper returned. "Don't call her about this. This has got nothing to do with her."

Sam was surprised at his brother's objection, "She's worried about you. She'd want to know. I mean this is huge."

Dean made a face. "She's not worried about me, she hates me. I heard her call me a jerk in the car"

Sam registered a fleeting amazement that Dean had been aware of anything on the drive to the hospital. "She doesn't hate you," Sam protested. "And she feels really guilty about you being hurt because of her."

"Then you can tell her about it tonight," Dean persisted. "I don't think this warrants a special phone call. I don't know this woman. And I'm not happy about you calling her giving her updates on my condition."

"She's not exactly some random woman. You had a relationship with her four years ago."

"I don't even remember her Sam, I think _relationship_ may be overstating things."

"Alright," Sam said soothingly, trying to back away from this fight. "I won't call her."

But Dean wasn't willing to let the matter rest. "And while we're on the subject, what the hell is her son doing at the motel? I don't remember him being at the diner."

"He's only three Dean, Lisa couldn't just leave him behind."

"Really? Because that's exactly what she should have done. There's a demon that wants her dead and she's put her son in the firing line. I can't believe you would be so stupid Sam, you should have known better."

Dean was deliberately provoking Sam with that last comment, the tiredness was making him punchy and he couldn't help himself. Sam could see the behaviour for what it was, he didn't rise to the bait, he didn't want to argue. His brother was all over the place at the moment, Sam just had to make allowances and ride it out.

Plus he didn't entirely disagree with Dean about Tommy. Having a three year old in the middle of this mess wasn't ideal. He understood why Lisa needed to have her son with her, but he also understood that it complicated things.

"I'm going to get a coffee," Sam announced, deciding that he and Dean needed a little space. "You want one?"

"Nah," Dean replied, finding it increasing difficult to ignore the call of sleep.

As Sam left the room Doctor Freemont entered. "Hey Doc," the young man greeted him, "Dean's got good news for you."

Doctor Freemont was taken aback by Sam's upbeat mood. Every time he'd seen the young man he had been somber and depressed, this happy person was someone he didn't know.

"Morning Dean," the Doctor greeted, looking from the chart in his hand to the man in the bed.

"Morning Doc."

"So what's this good news?"

Dean looked a bit embarrassed, "I've just got some feeling and movement back in my legs."

The doctor smiled. "That is good news. Let me see."

The doctor pulled the covers off the bottom of the bed to expose Dean's feet and Dean went through a similar performance that he'd done with Sam, the doctor testing the extent of the movement and sensation. Dean noticed this time around that although he could move his feet they weren't doing exactly what he wanted. Sometimes they went left when he was aiming for right, sometimes they went up when he wanted down and sometimes they just didn't move at all. He wasn't sure if it was because he was tired and not concentrating properly.

When Doctor Freemont had seen enough he pulled the covers back over the patient's feet and proclaimed, "That is a very good start. Lot to work with there."

"Yeah," Dean said distractedly. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for the range of movement he had, but he was worried that his legs weren't working as they should. He wasn't sure if he should raise his concerns or shut up and consider himself lucky.

"What?" the doctor prompted.

Dean hesitated before answering, "It's just that my feet aren't doing exactly what I tell them. Is that normal?"

"Sure. You suffered a serious spinal injury Dean and its going to take a while for things to work the way they should. There are some things that are going to come back automatically, there are other things you're going to have to retrain your legs to do, and then-" the doctor paused, he didn't want to put a dampener on this breakthrough, but he felt an obligation to be honest, "there may be some things you just won't be able to do at all anymore."

It was sobering advice, but Dean had switched off when he heard that what he was experiencing was normal. Now that he had feeling and motion he believed it was just a matter of exercising and strengthening his legs to get himself back to where he used to be. Anything less than a full recovery really wasn't an option.

The doctor continued cheerfully, "But lets not get bogged down in that right now. You've got a lot of movement there, I'll be expecting big things from you."

Dean's eyes were stinging with the effort of staying awake and he closed them for a moment to get some relief. He heard the doctor say something about expecting big things and wanted to make a joke about his choice of words, but he was just too tired. He tried to open his eyes again, he could at least wait until the doc had gone before falling asleep, but there was no returning to wakefulness now, he was too far gone. He drifted off snickering about big things.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dean threw himself into physical therapy. Now that the door had been opened to him, he was keen to improve his mobility and he wanted to get as far away from that helpless guy in the bed he had been for the last few days as quickly as possible. Doctor Freemont had arranged for a physical therapist to visit Dean immediately, keen for the young man to start his rehabilitation and the therapist had given Dean exercises to do while lying in bed. The hunter attacked those exercises with vigour, challenging himself to do more repeats each time.

When Dean had sought Sam's assistance to take his exercises to the next step and do them sitting on the edge of the bed working against gravity, Sam had been thrilled to see his brother making progress. He had images in his head of Dean being up and around in a few days and was only too happy to aid in his recovery.

But he realized he was being too optimistic when getting Dean to the edge of the bed proved an unexpected ordeal. Sam was timid in his assistance, he didn't want to cause Dean unnecessary pain, so he only moved his brother as he was directed and even then it was with a very light touch. It meant progress was slow. Every movement Dean made appeared agonizing to the younger brother. There was much groaning and cursing from Dean as he drew his body up and around in the bed until he was facing outward. When finally the injured man's legs were dangling over the side of the bed, Dean had collapsed onto his brother's chest worn out by the effort. With a firm grip on Dean's shoulders to keep him from falling off the bed, the injured man limp in his arms the younger brother had thought _He shouldn't be doing this. He's not ready for this. _

The next time Dean had asked his brother to help him into a sitting position, Sam had refused. No way was he going through that again. And no way did he think his brother should go through that again. Maybe in a few days they could try it, but for now, Sam considered his older brother should stick to exercising laying down.

Dean was surprised when Sam threw up resistance. He more than anyone should know how important it was for Dean to reach his full potential. Not just for his own sake, but because there was a demon who was going to catch up with Lisa any day now. They had strung this situation out as long as they could, but they needed to get serious about finding a way to rid Lisa of the demon that had targeted her and to do that, Dean needed to be moving around.

Sam proved remarkably steadfast in his refusal to help Dean get into a sitting position. It was his opinion that Dean was moving too fast in his recovery and needed to take it slower. But Dean wasn't about to let his brother's objections prevent him from doing what he wanted. When Sam refused to help him get to the side of the bed, the older brother had painfully and laboriously pulled himself out of the covers and shifted his legs over the edge on his own. The younger man wondered if it was because he was watching that his brother wouldn't admit defeat, because such an act was clearly beyond him. _Stubborn bastard_ Sam thought as he couldn't help but reluctantly offer his assistance, afraid his brother might fall off the bed and crack his head open.

Gradually sitting on the edge of the bed had become easier. Dean worked on his balance and he knew that if he planted his hands in a certain place behind him on the bed he could keep himself steady while he dangled his legs over the side. He didn't need Sam's help to get to the edge of the bed (although Sam's help made it a lot easier) and he considered that was a sign he could move on to the next task. Standing up.

Sam had been aghast when his brother had proposed standing up. In a period of 36 hours Dean went from just recovering feeling to wanting to getting out of bed. To Sam watching on it was crazy. Hs brother only barely had the ability to sit up, there was no way he was anywhere near ready to stand up. He tried to convince the injured man that it was too soon, he needed to do more strengthening exercises first, he needed to work on his balance, but Dean was adamant.

The injured man wasn't surprised when his younger brother refused to help him take the next step, little brother was still objecting to him sitting up, of course he wasn't going to be supportive of him standing up. But Dean knew he couldn't attempt this new trick without his brother's help. His legs weren't strong enough to hold him and he needed Sam as a physical support otherwise he was going to end up sprawled on the floor. It was going to take much practice before standing up was something he could do by himself.

As Dean sat on the edge of the bed bracing himself for what he considered to be a natural progression in his recovery, Sam regarded him dubiously from a few steps away.

"I'm hopping off this bed," Dean threatened. "You can either help me, or feel really bad when you see me hit the floor."

"Did your physical therapist say you should do this?" Sam asked rhetorically. He'd been in the room when the physical therapist had visited and he knew there had been no talk of getting out of bed.

"Sure," was the glib response.

"You liar. She did not."

Dean bristled at being called a liar. "She told me to-" Dean tried to remember the therapist's exact words, "_do whatever I feel capable of._ I'm feeling capable of this."

"I don't think she meant getting out of bed. And you can't be feeling too capable if you think you're going to hit the floor."

"No-one likes a smart ass Sammy. Just come over here."

"Why don't you do this with the therapist tomorrow?"

"Because I want to do it now."

"Why don't you master sitting up properly first? You're still all hunched over, you should work on that."

Dean was at the end of his patience. "Would you just come over here. Jesus you're mouthy. Less talking, more helping."

Sam considered refusing his brother, but after the sitting up experience where refusing to help had only resulted in his brother doing what he wanted unaided, the young man felt he had no choice but to assist. If Dean tried to do this without help it could be disastrous. With a dramatic sigh and a roll of the eyes Sam begrudgingly took the few steps closer to his older brother.

As the young man positioned himself in front of the older man he thought _this is such a dumb idea_. Not only was he convinced that Dean didn't have the strength to stand up, he was worried about his brother doing something that could set him back, be detrimental to his recovery. Sam silently cursed his brother for putting him in this position, for making him help do something that frankly, Sam thought was reckless.

The young hunter made sure he had a good defensive stance, weight evenly on his feet so he wouldn't lose his balance when he had to take on Dean's weight. He held his arms outstretched in front of him for his brother to grip onto and gave his brother a pursed lipped nod to let him know he was ready.

Dean took a hold of his brother's arms and slowly edged himself off the bed. He placed his feet flat on the ground and with a final deep breath, put his weight on them. The pain in his back was breathtaking. His legs supported him for a few seconds but gravity was like a weight on his shoulders, pushing him down. As blackness started to curl at the corner of his vision, his knees buckled underneath him and he heard a roaring in his ears that he knew meant he was about to pass out. He felt Sam's hands snatch a hold of him and grasp him tightly, halting his collapse and preventing him from meeting the floor. Dean grabbed at his brother's shirt front, trying to pull himself upright but there was no support from his legs, and he hung slackly in his brother's arms.

Sam struggled under Dean's full weight. He managed to lift his brother back into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, but he still had to hold Dean steady as the injured man swayed underneath his grip.

Dean rested his forehead on Sam's chest and breathed heavily, the room spinning.

"Holy crap," he muttered weakly.

"See?" Sam said angrily, feeling vindicated. "I told you not to do that. You don't have any strength in your legs. It's too soon to be trying something like that."

Dean didn't reply. He remained leaning on Sam for a minute taking deep breaths, trying to calm the fire sweeping through his body. When the pain returned to a manageable ache he pushed himself off his brother's chest and said, "Alright lets try that again."

"Are you crazy?" Sam exclaimed and took a step backward. "What is wrong with you? I'm not helping you do that again."

"I can't just do it once," Dean complained. "I'm never going to improve if I only do it once. I've got it this time, I know what to expect now."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You don't have it this time. You're not even close to having it. Forget it."

Dean was fed up with his brother's opposition. He was making everything so hard. "What's your problem Sam? I'm the one doing this. All you got to do is stand there."

"I have to do a little more than just stand there, you heavy lump," Sam groused. "You can't do it. You're pushing too hard. You're going to kill yourself."

Dean snorted. "How am I going to kill myself?"

"You're going to fall over, hit your head, and be dead on the floor."

"Oh God you're a wuss. I'm not going to hit my head if you help me so get over here."

"No," Sam was adamant and moved further away to show he was serious. "I'm not helping you do that again."

"Come on Sam," Dean was annoyed. "I'm doing this with or without you." That old chestnut had worked last time.

"Then you'll be dead on the floor and I'll be proved right."

"You're going to feel pretty bad when I'm dead on the floor."

"I'll feel fine about it," Sam replied nonchalantly.

"Evening boys," a voice greeted them from the door. Bev had been standing in the doorway a few seconds watching the exchange.

"Everything okay in here?" Bev wasn't exactly sure what Dean was proposing that Sam objected to, but she was confident it involved the injured man extending himself beyond his capabilities. When Sam refused to help she had made her presence known, concerned that Dean was going to end up dead on the floor.

"Sam won't help me," Dean complained like a child. "He's holding me back."

"I'm not holding you back. You're being an idiot."

"I am not. You're just a wuss."

"I'm not a wuss, I'm sensible. One of us has to be."

"Alright boys," the nurse interrupted. "Sam could I talk to you outside?" A smirk appeared on Dean's face and he raised his eyebrows at his brother. Sam reluctantly followed Bev out the door with the feeling he was about to be told off. Well he wasn't going to accept a telling off, he was in the right, Dean was being stupid.

When they were in the hallway outside the door Bev turned to Sam and said in a hushed but firm voice, "Listen Sam, you need to be supportive of your brother. He's trying very hard to recover and your attitude isn't helping. Don't hold him back, don't tell him he can't do things, just let him try and be there to catch him if he falls."

"He's pushing too hard Bev," Sam protested. "He just tried to stand up and almost passed out. He's trying to do things he's not ready for. I'm not going to help him with that."

"I know he's pushing too hard," she soothed. "I know he's extending himself too far. But he's motivated. He wants to improve. Would you rather he was just laying in the bed looking out the window?"

"Sometimes," Sam mumbled.

"Sam?" Bev gave him a disapproving look.

"Okay, no I don't just want him laying in a bed," Sam conceded.

"Do you think he's going to stop pushing himself too hard?" she continued.

"No," the young man admitted.

"Then whatever he wants to do be supportive and help him."

Sam gave her a glum look. "I just don't think I should be supportive of him doing stupid things."

"They're not entirely stupid Sam. He's only trying to get his body to do what it used to. He's feeling his limitations and if he wants to try and push through them then I say good for him. Its very easy to stop when it gets too hard."

"I just can't see how doing things he isn't ready for can benefit him," Sam complained. "I think he should heal before he extends."

"I know you're worried about him Sam." Bev gave the young man a warm smile. "But you need to let him set the pace, even if you think that pace is too fast. Otherwise he's going to get frustrated and depressed and it'll be a downhill slide from there."

Sam's shoulders slumped. "Fine," he said without looking at her. He wasn't happy about the way this conversation had gone.

Bev returned to Dean's room with Sam following behind. "Did you set him straight Bev," Dean asked with a mischievous smile.

"You betcha," she winked.

Sam's face darkened. He wasn't happy about being portrayed as the villain of the piece. And he still didn't think Dean was in the right on this standing up business. But he bit his tongue, knowing he was outnumbered.

Dean was still sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for someone to lend him a hand although he was feeling the strain of being upright for too long. There was a burning ache in his back tempting him to lay down and forget about his second attempt to stand up, but he had a point to prove to Sam now.

"You'll help me won't you Bev?" Dean said with a pointed look at his brother.

"You know I will," she answered. "What do you want me to do?"

"I just need you to help me stand up."

"Sure thing," she responded brightly. She wasn't sure she would be able to manage Dean's weight if he collapsed on her, but she couldn't deny his request after giving his brother a talking to about being supportive.

"Sam why don't you go on one side and I'll go on the other," the nurse suggested.

Sam wasn't happy about being roped into this lunacy again and he shuffled over with a sulky look on his face. "He's going to fall Bev," the young man predicted with a pout.

"Then make sure you have a good grip," Bev responded and gave Sam a warning look.

Sam and Bev positioned themselves on either side of Dean. The injured man placed one hand on each of their forearms took a deep breath and eased himself off the bed. A groan escaped him as his feet bore their load and he gritted his teeth. The supporters had to hold on tight to keep the injured man upright. Dean had locked his knees so that they wouldn't crumple again, but he was pitching forward and every time he tried to straighten up there was a sharp pain in his back that kept him hunched. After a few seconds he heard the roaring sound and gasped, "Okay. I'm done"

Bev and Sam lifted Dean back into a sitting position on the bed and Bev gently helped the injured man lay down. He was awfully pale and when Bev grasped his wrist to take his pulse she could feel he was clammy.

"I couldn't straighten up," the injured man complained breathlessly to the nurse.

She nodded. "You may want to start laying on the bed without pillows to stretch out your back," she suggested.

"Okay." He brought his hand up to his head and started rubbing his temple. A vicious pounding had started in his skull and his back was on fire. Just laying there was causing all sorts of twinges and he couldn't get comfortable in the bed.

"You want something for the pain?" Bev asked, feeling a maternal concern for the young man in her charge.

"Yeah," he nodded and she could see the gratitude in his eyes.

"I'll be right back." She patted his arm then left to get the necessary pain relief.

"Oh man," Dean sighed and the hand that had been rubbing his temple lay still across his forehead.

"You okay?" Sam asked. The annoyance he had been chewing on abated and was replaced by concern.

"Yeah. Its just…..life is hard sometimes."

No arguments from Sam on that one. The younger brother almost made a comment about Dean being the cause of his own hardship but he knew that was harsh and held it back. It was really difficult for Sam to watch his brother go through the cycle of pushing himself too hard and then collapsing in a heap. Dean had no moderation. Sam was convinced that if his brother took smaller steps in his recovery, he would make the same progress with a lot less suffering. But then he and Dean were very different people.

Sam made an attempt to be conciliatory. "You've got your physical therapist to help you, she can give you some ideas on how to make things easier."

"I plan on leaving this place in the morning so I don't know if I'm going to see her again." Dean felt weariness overtaking him and he cursed his lack of stamina. He knew Sam was going to make an issue of his decision to leave and he didn't feel up to arguing about it now. He should have waited until the morning and sprung it on Sam then.

"What?" Sam was stunned. "What do you mean you're leaving? You can't leave, you can barely move."

"Sam you know we have to minimize our time in these sort of places. And there's nothing I'm doing at the hospital that I can't do at a motel."

Sam was speechless. He felt desperate to convince his brother to stay in the hospital at least for a few more days. He couldn't believe there had been no discussion about this. It was too soon to be leaving the degree of care and expertise Dean was receiving here. This injury was too serious to be messing around with and Sam didn't feel confident he could care for Dean in his current condition.

"No. You can't go," Sam stated simply

Dean snorted. "I'm not exactly seeking your approval."

Bev returned to the room and cut the conversation short. "Here you go Dean, this will make you feel better." She handed the young hunter a couple of pills which he immediately swallowed with a water chaser.

"Ah Bev. You sure know the way to an injured man's heart," he sighed.

Sam regarded Bev, wondering if he should let her in on Dean's plan to leave the hospital tomorrow and see what her reaction might be. Maybe if they could double team Dean about changing his mind he might stay a few more days. But then he wasn't so sure Bev would be his ally after the little speech about being supportive, it could end up with Bev and Dean double teaming him about letting Dean leave.

Sam wasn't going to accept Dean's decision without a fight. Dean was going to need his help to leave the hospital and he wasn't feeling minded to offer that help. There was going to be fireworks tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When Sam returned to the motel that evening, Lisa could tell something was up. He was preoccupied, but she knew better than to ask him what was on his mind when Tommy was around.

For the past few nights, when Sam had returned from the hospital, he had taken Tommy out for an hour of running around and fresh air. The poor kid was like a caged tiger during the day, desperate for some freedom and fun, he fairly pounced on Sam as he walked through the door, thrilled to have a new playmate.

Lisa was starting to question the practicality of bringing Tommy into hiding with her. The longer it went on, the more of a strain it became. He was a good boy, but he needed to run around, he needed to play with kids his own age, he needed more than the motel had to offer to keep him interested and challenged. He was whining constantly for things that Lisa couldn't provide. She tried to be understanding, she tried to keep him entertained, but whining was whining and it was wearing her down. Her nerves were frayed and she couldn't wait for Sam to return from the hospital and give her a break.

A few times Lisa had asked Sam how long this was going to go on, how long she was going to be considered a target and how long she had stay in hiding. His answers were evasive always ending with _When Dean gets better we'll sort it out._ It had been nearly a week now, Dean was still in the hospital and Lisa wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was tempted to take her chances and return home, get back to her life, the four walls of the motel room were making her claustrophobic. And she was starting to get depressed because this was no way to live and it was certainly no way for a three year old to live. But she owed the brothers. They had put themselves on the line for her and she couldn't just throw that all away. So she gritted her teeth, hid her growing despair and waited for some miraculous end to this interminable situation.

After dinner, when Tommy was asleep, Lisa took the opportunity to ask Sam what was on his mind.

Sam sighed. "Dean's checking himself out of the hospital tomorrow."

"Really? Wow that's a fast recovery." Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Dean being with them at the motel.

"No," Sam said slowly, "he's not recovered. He's just checking himself out."

"Oh," Lisa frowned. "Why?" She couldn't understand why someone would want to leave care if they weren't ready. Why put your health in danger unnecessarily?

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know, he can be so stubborn. I don't know why it has to be tomorrow and not three days from now or next week sometime. He's just made up his mind that tomorrow is the day and the more I tell him not to do something the more inclined he is to do it."

Sam didn't want to get into the whole Dean is on the run for murder thing with Lisa. He had hinted to her that they had legal issues, that it would be better for them to avoid the police but he thought she might be freaked out at the idea that Dean was wanted for murder. If it got to the point where he had to tell her about it, then he would, he wasn't going to lie to her, he just wasn't going to bring it up if he could avoid it.

But as much as Sam knew that Dean was feeling antsy about staying at the hospital, Sam figured his brother had already been there nearly a week and if something was going to happen, if the cops were going to pay him a visit, they would have done it by now. The brothers were getting pretty good at identity theft, obviously the name that Sam had given to the hospital staff on Dean's admission hadn't rung any alarm bells because they would have known about it.

"Is there any reason he can't leave the hospital?" Lisa interrupted Sam's thoughts. "I mean any medical reason he has to stay?"

"I don't think there's any reason he _has_ to stay," Sam reluctantly conceded. "It's just that he's so weak. Its going to be a while before he can move around properly. And everything is so difficult for him. He tried to stand up today and nearly passed out." Sam sighed again and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I just know that when he leaves the hospital he going to be gung-ho about chasing down the demon that's after you." The young man paused before admitting, "I'm scared for him."

Lisa reached out and squeezed Sam's hand. She appreciated the way he didn't hold back with her, he never put on some macho façade, he was always honest about the way he was feeling. His willingness to expose his weakness was unlike anything she had encountered in a man before. It made her feel close to him.

"It sounds like there's nothing you could do to change his mind Sam. And he's probably going to get better attention here than he did at the hospital, I mean I'm housebound, I'll be with him 24/7," she laughed.

Sam smiled at her but she wasn't alleviating his concerns. "You don't know what he's like Lisa. He has no consideration for his own well being. He'll come up with some crazy plan to get rid of the demon and then insist on spear heading it. You know, as much as I have worried about him over the last week, I never worried about his safety while he was in the hospital. Once he's out, it just adds a whole new layer of concern to the situation."

"He'll be fine Sam," she assured gently. "We'll keep an eye on him and he'll be fine."

Sam averted his eyes. He was disappointed that he wasn't getting the support he expected from Lisa. Dean wasn't going to be fine because he never gave himself the opportunity to be fine, he was always pushing too hard, striving for too much. But the young hunter wasn't just worried about his brother, he was worried about himself too, how he was going to cope with having a recuperating Dean around. It was a big responsibility and he wasn't sure he was up to it.

Sam didn't sleep at all well that night. The pros and cons of Dean leaving the hospital whirled around in his head. Was it really so bad that he wanted to leave? His injury was healing, all he was doing at the hospital was strengthening and he was right when he said he could do that anywhere. If he took it easy at the motel then where was the harm in leaving? But there was the rub. What were the chances of Dean taking it easy at the motel? Not that Dean had taken it easy at the hospital, but at least there if anything happened medical help was immediately available, at the motel they were on their own.

And once Dean was at the motel, this demon business was going to be in his face, Lisa and Tommy were going to be a constant reminder of unfinished business. Whether his older brother was up to the task or not, Dean was going to want to take action. On the other hand Dean knew how dangerous hunting a demon when he was physically incapable was, it put not only himself at risk but the people around him as well and Dean wasn't the sort to endanger lives.

When daylight broke, Sam was still tossing up about whether he should accept his brother's decision to leave or oppose him. He decided that ideally, Dean should stay in the hospital a few more days, so that was the line he was going to take. If Dean wanted to leave today, then Sam wasn't going to make it easy for him.

By the time he arrived at the hospital a few hours later, Sam was ready for game on. He smacked open the door to Dean's room itching to launch into a tirade and felt slightly let down to find his brother asleep.

He walked over to the window and rested his head against the glass, looking at but not seeing the vista outside. Already he could feel his resolve slipping. He didn't want to fight with Dean. Especially when Dean wasn't well. It seemed harsh.

When Dean stirred fifteen minutes later, Sam was in conflict. He couldn't decide whether this was something he wanted to fall out with his brother over. The idea of fracturing their relationship over leaving the hospital a few days earlier than Sam would have liked, seemed silly. Exercising in the hospital or exercising in the motel, what was the big deal? But it wasn't the recovery that Sam was worried about, it was Dean hunting the demon that had him concerned.

Dean's eyes alighted on his brother pressed against the window and he frowned for a moment at his somber pose. "Hey," he greeted. "You alright?"

Sam turned from the window and dropped his head, still in turmoil about whether he wanted to attack his brother or not. "Yeah," he replied softly. "You still planning on leaving today?"

"Yeah." Dean gave his brother a searching look, unsure about whether his brother was going to give him a hard time or not. He wondered if they were going to do this the easy way or if Sam was going to insist they do it the hard way.

"Have you told the doctor?"

Dean gave a short laugh. "Yeah right. Like he needs to know."

"I think you should tell him you're going Dean, in case he has some instructions."

"I already have his instructions. Keep exercising."

Sam was quiet. Dean was determined not to be put off by his brother's odd mood. "Can you throw me my clothes?"

Sam gave his brother a piercing gaze. "What if I don't?"

_It looks like it's going to be the hard way _Dean thought. The older man met his brother's gaze. "Don't make this harder than it has to be Sam, otherwise I'll have to do it all myself and it will hurt like hell."

"I don't think you can do it all yourself. That's the point Dean. You can't stand up, you can barely sit up, but for some reason you think you're ready to leave. What are you going to do if I don't help you?"

"I'm going to get off this bed, go over to the cupboard and get myself dressed." Dean replied steadily.

"You think you're capable of that?" Sam regarded him dubiously.

"Yeah I do. I'm not paralysed Sam, my legs do work. Although its not plan A. I would much rather you helped me."

"So yesterday you couldn't stand up, but today you think you can walk over to the cupboard and get dressed?"

"Yeah."

Sam gave a wry smile. He wasn't sure if Dean really believed that or if he was just being difficult. "Why does it have to be today? Why can't you wait a few days?"

"What difference does it make? Whether I leave today or next week I'm going to be a gimp. It'll be weeks before I'm moving around properly, so we may as well get this show on the road."

"But everything's going to be so much easier if you wait a few days, get some more practice, have a few more sessions with the therapist. A few more days and I'll be happy to help you escape."

"Give it up Sam. I'm leaving today," Dean said with finality.

Sam looked away uncertain about how he wanted to proceed. Did he want to give in to his brother or did he want to take a stand? When he had made his decision he looked back at his brother and said, "Then you're going to have to go with plan B, because I don't feel like helping you with this."

Dean's lips thinned. He wasn't going to be bullied by his little brother, no matter how quiet and sad his voice. Lucky for the older man it was first thing in the morning, he was feeling rested and he was up for this.

As Sam watched, torn between wanting to make his point and wanting to help his brother, the injured man reached up to the handrail above him and drew himself up. He had mastered sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs dangling over the side, so they both knew he could manage that far by himself. Once in that position Sam watched intently to see what his brother's next move might be. He couldn't see any way that Dean could get off that bed unaided.

Dean looked around at what was within arm's reach, hoping to find something he could lean on once he pushed himself off the bed. But nothing presented itself, the chair was too far away, the bedside cabinet was on the opposite side of the bed. All he could rely on was the wall to keep him propped up.

Still, Dean was willing to back himself on getting to the cupboard. He was feeling stronger today than he did yesterday and he reckoned he could do it. He was a bit worried about his balance moving forward, but he considered if he moved slowly he should be okay. Once he got to the cupboard he was going to be in trouble, he could imagine himself feeling pretty weak kneed by then, and he didn't think he would be able to open the cupboard door, get his clothes out and walk back to the bed, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Hopefully Sammy would be on board by then and help him out. Worse case scenario he could just slide to the floor and crawl back.

The gauntlet had been thrown and Dean wasn't going to be the one to back down. Just in case he had overestimated his abilities he looked around for some way to soften his fall to the floor. He had three pillows on the bed which he grabbed and threw onto the ground in front of him. He raised one eyebrow at his brother, signifying that he wasn't backing down and challenging Sam to call off this dare.

"Don't do it." Sam warned nervous about how far his brother would take this.

"You wanted it this way," Dean reminded him, steely eyed as he edged himself closer to the side of the bed.

"Don't be an idiot," Sam narrowed his eyes. "Its going to hurt."

"Everything hurts," Dean responded. "And who's the idiot? Me for trying or you for not helping?"

_You're trying alright_ Sam thought.

The injured man was now on the edge of the bed and he put his hand on the bedhead to keep him steady as he shifted himself over the side. He slowly transferred his weight from the bed to his feet and when the transfer was complete, he stood hunched over like an old man, still unable to straighten out his back, but the pain was manageable and his legs felt solid, he didn't feel like he was about to fall. He moved his hand from the bedhead to the wall and very slowly drew his right foot forward. His foot felt like an anvil at the bottom of his leg, it was so heavy.

Sam couldn't stand it any longer. He had to call off this game of chicken before his brother hurt himself. "Alright," Sam shouted. "I'll help you leave. Just get back on the bed. Christ you're annoying."

The young man was angry that his hand had been forced. This was exactly why he feared for his brother, because he was stupid sometimes, he took unnecessary risks. What exactly had Dean proved with that performance? Not that he was ready to leave. Just that he was willing to push his luck. He glared as Dean painfully pulled himself back onto the bed and lay down. His brother's pallor and grimace only served to heighten the younger man's annoyance, he shouldn't be leaving the hospital. "But this is it for my help, once we leave the hospital you are leaving care. Do you understand?" Sam looked at his brother for acknowledgment. "If you leave here, you are telling me that you no longer need care because I'm not a nurse."

"Dude, you're not even close. You really need to work on your bedside manner."

"I'm serious here Dean," Sam voice rose.

"Fine Sam. I get it," Dean snapped.

"Good," Sam retorted. "Then we have an understanding."

Sam stalked to the cupboard, retrieved his brother's clothes and threw them at Dean. Without looking at his brother he strode out of the room and up to the nurses station. He noted with disappointed that Bev wasn't on duty. He was willing to tell Bev about Dean leaving now, in a last ditch effort to find a way to keep Dean at the hospital. But that option wasn't open to him and instead he asked the young nurse on duty if there was a wheelchair he could use to take his brother outside for some fresh air.

Sam was fuming. He was furious that he had been outplayed by his brother. Suddenly it occurred to Sam that if Dean left the hospital without telling anyone, that could be a security issue that the hospital might involve the police in. He wasn't sure if that was the hospital's policy, but they didn't need that sort of complication. The last thing they wanted was the local police searching for Dean.

When the nurse came back with a wheelchair Sam confessed that Dean was planning on leaving. The nurse was shocked and tried to talk Sam out of taking his brother, but Sam put up his hand to stop her.

"Look he's made up his mind he's leaving so save your breath. I've already tried to talk him out of it and he won't have it, so if you want him to sign any forms before he leaves you've got about two minutes to do it."

"I can't get the forms ready in two minutes," she complained.

Sam held out his hands in an _I can't help you_ pose and the nurse scurried off in a huff.

When he returned to Dean's room with the wheelchair, he got a perverse pleasure from seeing his brother grunting and groaning trying to get his clothes on. Sam refused to offer any assistance and leaned on the door frame with arms folded waiting for Dean to be ready. The injured man was having a lot of trouble getting his jeans on and the younger brother had to look away to stop himself from going over and doing it for him.

"I told the nurse you were leaving," Sam said.

"What did you do that for?"

"I was worried that if you disappeared the hospital might call the police."

"Hmm," Dean responded, unwilling to credit his brother with some good thinking. Finally the jeans were on and the injured man flopped onto the pillows exhausted. "Can you put my shoes on?" Dean asked.

Sam retrieved the shoes and socks from the cupboard and placed them on his brother's feet.

"You ready?" Sam asked gruffly. Dean nodded. Sam helped the injured man into the wheelchair then wheeled him out to the nurses station where they waited impatiently for the nurse to produce documents for signing. Fifteen minutes later they were out the door and on their way to the motel.


	10. Chapter 10

This is kind of a short chapter. It was either going to be a bit short or mega long, so I went with short. Hope you don't mind.

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Chapter 10 

While Sam was picking up his brother from the hospital Lisa made arrangements with the motel manager to rent the adjoining room. Walking across the carpark to the reception area was the first time Lisa had stepped outside the motel room in a week and it was incredibly liberating. The feel of the sun on her face and the slight breeze caressing her body filled her with joy. She held Tommy's hand in hers and they skipped the few metres to their destination. She had rejoined the world.

But ten minutes later it was all over. The manager returned with her to their room and opened the common door between theirs and the adjoining room. It meant a lack of privacy for both rooms, but it was a much easier access than having to go outside and knock on the door. And Lisa became trapped once more in the dodgy second class prison unsure of when she might break free again. With a heavy heart she salted the doors and windows in the new room in preparation for the boys arrival.

When the brothers drove up just before lunch time, they both had faces set in stone. Sam helped his brother out of the car and into a wheelchair without any show of affection and Dean thanked him by speaking sharply and batting his hand away a number of times. Obviously the brothers had fought at the hospital. Lisa shook her head. Friction between them was going to be unpleasant to live with.

Once in the wheelchair, Dean rested his elbows on the armrests and put a hand to his head. He looked like he was about to faint. Or throw up. Maybe both. He was unfeasibly pale. Lisa understood now why Sam was so concerned about him. He definitely looked like he should be in a hospital.

"Wait here Tommy," she instructed the little boy who was colouring an activity book on the floor near her feet. The little boy looked up and the mother continued, "I don't want you going into that other room. Okay? Not unless I tell you to."

"Okay," he replied good naturedly and returned to his colouring.

Lisa went into the adjoining room and opened the door for the brothers. Sam's pursed lips gave way to an appreciative smile. "Thankyou" he said in a low voice, grateful for the kind gesture. He pushed the chair into the room to the side of the bed, put on the brake and moved the footrests aside.

"You can get yourself from the chair to the bed," Sam said brusquely.

"No problem," Dean bristled.

The younger brother looked like he wanted to say more, but changed his mind and moved away from the chair. "Jerk," he added under his breath.

"Sam?" Lisa queried, not sure why the young man was leaving his brother stranded in the wheelchair.

But Sam put his hand up to stop her continuing, "No Lisa, my brother and I had a conversation this morning. Apparently Dean doesn't need to be in the hospital any more because he can do everything himself now."

"That's not what I said," Dean flared. "Man you got issues."

"No shit I got issues. I told you that if you left the hospital I wasn't going to help you and you made the decision to leave, so here's your first test. Good luck to you, hope it all goes well."

The young man strode angrily into the adjoining room and a delighted little voice cried out, "Sam!"

"Hey buddy," was the young man's kindly response.

Dean's shoulders slumped as he looked from his wheelchair to the bed, trying to figure out how to bridge the gap. It couldn't have been more than two feet he had to cover but it seemed insurmountable. He felt awful. The drive over had been a nightmare for him. Sitting upright for that period of time, trying to keep balanced against the bump and sway of the car had caused unbearable pressure on his back. He had almost asked Sam to stop and let him lie in the back seat, but his pride had refused to allow it. He thought he had been prepared for how hard it was going to be leaving the hospital, but he realized now he had underestimated. It was much much harder than he had anticipated dealing with the pain and the inability. His pain relief had pretty much worn off and the ache radiating through his spine was almost gun in the mouth material.

But he'd made this choice despite Sam's strong objection, so now he had to live with it. He couldn't tell his brother he had made a mistake, he couldn't expect any sympathy from Sam, because Sam had told him leaving the hospital was a dumb idea. And Dean could see he was right.

Lisa watched the injured man for a moment, waiting to see what he would do. She didn't know if she should offer her assistance or if she was included in this no helping policy of Sam's. She was standing behind the injured man and wasn't sure he knew she was still in the room. The young woman considered whether she should let her presence be known or just slink out and leave Dean alone.

As Lisa was deciding what to do, Dean's hands gripped tightly on the arms of the chair, pushing him up slightly, then a groan escaped him and he eased back down. He put his head in his hands trying to find the strength to get this job done. He knew he could do it, the manoeuvre wasn't difficult, up-over-down, he could have done it an hour ago, easy. But weariness made everything hurt, his body felt heavy and all he could think about was closing his eyes.

"Do you want some help?" Lisa asked, unable to stand by and watch any longer.

Dean looked around in surprise and saw Lisa standing by the door. He felt self conscious that she was seeing him at a low ebb and he wished she would go into the other room. He really wanted to answer yes to her question, but he didn't want to appear incapable of helping himself, so his stubbornness kicked in and he answered, "No," with eyes downcast.

Lisa moved forward as if she hadn't heard him, as if he'd said no when he meant yes, and took his elbow.

"No," he said harshly and shook his elbow out of her grasp. "I need to do this stuff myself." But he made no move to get himself out of the chair and onto the bed. He couldn't do it, he didn't have anything left, the bravado of an hour ago had left him and now he felt like an idiot for fighting his brother so hard on this.

Lisa tried to think of a way that she could offer her help without offending his ego. "Listen, you've had a long drive, you look exhausted. Let me help you just this once."

The injured man dropped his head onto his chest and closed his eyes in defeat. He had to say yes. He had no choice but to say yes. He really needed to lie down. "Okay," he muttered. "But can you get Sam?" If he was going to accept help, he wanted it to be from Sam.

Lisa hurried into the next room and after a hushed conversation, she returned with Sam. The hard glint in the younger brother's eye softened when he saw how dejected Dean looked. He felt despair for his older brother and the choices he made.

"Can you turn down the covers?" Sam directed Lisa. While she was doing that Sam removed his brother's shoes and jacket. With both tasks complete, Sam stood in front of Dean, put his hands under his shoulders, counted 1..2..3 and hauled him up. The older brother groaned loudly and straightened his legs so that he wasn't a dead weight. The sudden change in height went straight to Dean's head, hitting him with an intense dizziness that made his vision swim. The older man wanted to tell his brother to wait a minute for the head rush to pass, but he hadn't caught his breath before Sam swung him around toward the bed. The further motion was too much for Dean, his eyes rolled back, his head fell onto Sam's shoulder and he went limp in his brother's arms.

Sam was startled when he felt his brother pass out. He knew Dean was tired, it had been a long morning, but he hadn't expected him to collapse. For all the moaning Sam had done about his brother leaving the hospital, Dean had seemed a lot stronger today and he didn't think taking the few steps from the wheelchair to the bed would be that big a deal. Sam wouldn't have been quite so callous if he had known his brother was feeling this bad.

There was a quick scramble as Sam redistributed the increased weight trying to find balance. Then the young hunter gently deposited the injured man on the bed and pressed a hand to his forehead to make sure there wasn't more going on here than Dean being exhausted. He was relieved to find his older brother's temperature wasn't raised.

Sam patted the unconscious man's cheek lightly. "Hey."

Dean's eyelids fluttered and opened but closed again quickly. "Just let me sleep," he mumbled.

Lisa had watched the proceedings with her hand over her mouth in horror. Sam pulled the covers up over his brother and then motioned for Lisa to follow him into the other room.

When they were out of ear shot Lisa cried, "Oh Sam. You've got to take him back to the hospital."

Sam gave a sad laugh. "He won't go Lisa."

"Just pick him up and take him. He looks terrible."

"Weren't you the one telling me last night that he would be fine?"

She blushed. "I'm sorry Sam, I didn't know."

It had been a cheap shot Sam knew and he waved off her apology. She hadn't seen Dean in the hospital so it had all been hypothetical to her. Sam looked toward the room where his brother lay and Lisa wondered if he was considering taking him back. "He'll be okay now that he's lying down. He just needs to take it easy. It was too much for him today."

Sam thought about calling Doctor Freemont, but then decided that Dean was just worn out, there was nothing to get alarmed about. If he started getting feverish or experiencing some new kind of pain then Sam would call the doctor, but being tired and weak was just par for the course at this stage.

Tommy jumped up from where he had been colouring on the floor and asked Sam hopefully, "Can we go to the park now?"

Sam looked undecidedly toward the other room. It probably wouldn't hurt to get Tommy out of the motel and let his brother sleep in peace. "Yeah, okay, for a little while."

"Yay!" the little boy exclaimed and ran to get his shoes.

Lisa looked nervously toward where Dean slept. "Are you sure you should go?"

"He's fine," Sam assured with more confidence than he felt. "He'll probably sleep until we get back."

"Okay," she replied, wishing that Sam would change his mind. Dean was five minutes out of the hospital, in terrible shape and Sam was leaving her alone with him. She was not good in a crisis and she really hoped she wasn't going to face one when Sam was out.

"I've got my phone," Sam continued. "If you're worried just call me and we won't be far away." Lisa nodded and gave him a half hearted smile.

When Tommy had his shoes on and was ready to go Sam paused at the door and looked once again toward the room where Dean slept. He hated when his brother wasn't well, he hated this change in dynamic which forced him to be the decision maker. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing leaving Dean.

"Come on Sam," Tommy implored and tugged at his arm.

_We won't be gone long, Dean will be fine_ Sam assured himself and he let the little boy pull him to the car.


	11. Chapter 11

What a suspicious bunch you all are. There was a danger in Sam going to the park and leaving Dean, but it wasn't the one you were thinking. There's some business to attend to before we get back to the action.

This was a freaking hard chapter to write. Double underscore on the freaking. I must have gone back to the drawing board a dozen times. So be gentle with me.

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Chapter 11

Not quite an hour after Sam had taken Tommy to the park, Lisa heard a voice from the other room calling for Sam. She poked her head through the door and saw Dean rubbing his face tiredly.

"You okay?" she called.

The injured man jumped at her voice and his hands came away from his face. "Ah yeah. Is Sam there?"

"No, he's taken Tommy to the park. Anything I can help you with?"

Dean needed a bathroom break and he thought about whether he could wait for Sam. Yep, he could wait. That was way too personal for Lisa to help him with. Instead he asked, "Have you got any aspirin or anything?"

"Yeah I do," she answered and retreated into the room looking for her handbag. When she found what she was looking for she filled a glass with water then returned to Dean.

"How many do you want?" she asked.

"Whatever the recommended dose is, double it," he replied.

She shook some tablets into her hand then gave them to Dean with the glass of water. Propping himself on one elbow he swallowed the pills in two mouthfuls then handed the glass back to her before flopping back onto his pillow with a sigh.

"You want something to eat?"

The thought of food appealed and the injured man asked, "What have you got?"

"Last night's pizza."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I can't believe Sam didn't polish it off."

"Oh he ate a lot, believe me."

"I'm sure he did. Yeah, I'll have some of that."

As Lisa went about getting the pizza Dean struggled to get into a sitting position. He gained a new appreciation for the handrail which had been above the hospital bed, any time he had wanted to sit up all he had to do was pull himself upward using that handrail. Now he was pushing down on the bed and it was much less effective. He grunted as he slowly edged his way upward using the bedhead for support, but when he was as upright as he cared to be he found he didn't have enough pillows to prop himself up comfortably. Without pillows behind him he wasn't going to be able to sustain his position for long and with a sigh he called Lisa.

Her head appeared around the doorframe, "Yeah?"

"Could you pass me the pillows on that other bed," he motioned to the adjoining king size.

"Sure," she hastily grabbed the two pillows from the bed that would be Sam's then came over to where Dean lay and gingerly placed the pillows behind his back. She felt awkward in her closeness to him, and she avoided making eye contact.

"Thanks," he whispered and Lisa looked at him sharply, the weakness of his voice making her worry that he was going to pass out again, but he returned her gaze and the momentary panic that she may have to perform some medical service faded. She left to get the pizza that was warming in the microwave and returned a minute later, plate in hand.

"Here you go."

"Thanks," he gave her a wan smile.

"Listen, are you up for a bit of conversation?"

The slice of pizza Dean had just picked up hung frozen in the air between the plate and his mouth. _Oh God_ he thought _she wants to talk about personal stuff. Give me strength. Sam! Come and save me._

"Sure," he replied with a forced smile. He knew this conversation was coming, he just didn't think it would be so soon.

Lisa brought over a wooden dining chair to sit beside the bed. This was opportunity she had been looking for to talk to Dean, just the two of them, no-one to interrupt. When Sam had left Lisa had considered whether she wanted to have a deep and meaningful with Dean if he woke up. He looked so unwell she wasn't sure the time was right. But then again it was probably better to get this stuff said and done as soon as possible, get it out of the way.

Lisa sat on the hard chair rubbing her legs in nervous anticipation. Where to start? "I was just – I just wanted to-." Broaching this subject was harder than she thought. Four years in the making and she had gone through it in her mind so many times, what she would say to Dean if she ever saw him again. Looking at him now, so pale and pained, injured saving her life, she knew she wouldn't be able to say the hurtful, spiteful things she had imagined.

"How much do you remember about us being together four years ago?"

_Sam! Where are you?_

Dean put on his most charming smile as he said, "You know, I've moved around a lot in the last four years, met a lot of people. You're going to have to give me a little more information about how we met."

And there it was. He didn't remember her at all. She suspected as much, but having it confirmed was crushing. She felt a burning behind her eyes and had the urge to hit him. He had made quite an impression on her and it was insulting that she had made absolutely no impression on him at all.

Dean cringed inwardly. He could see the devastation in her eyes and he wished there was something he could say to lessen the blow, but she was a total blank to him. Sure she looked familiar, and a few times over the last week he had tried to piece together her face and the diner in his memory, but the circumstances of their meeting remained elusive.

"Your car broke down," Lisa said quietly. "You wanted to buy a part from Ray, the mechanic, but he wouldn't sell it to you, you had to either leave the car with him to be fixed or find the part somewhere else. He's the only mechanic within 50 miles of the town so you had no choice but to leave the car with him. And boy were you pissed off about it."

Realisation dawned on Dean. "Oh yeah, Ray, now I remember." No way Dean could forget that dick, he had refused to sell Dean a $10 part and then charged him $100 for a job that shouldn't have taken more than an hour which he took three days to do. To top it off he had demanded cash in advance. Dean could feel himself getting worked up just thinking about it.

_Yeah you remember the car being broken, you remember Ray, you don't remember me_, Lisa though bitterly.

Now that he had a starting point, Dean started to put the chain of events together in his head. "I walked to the diner and asked for water because Ray had bled me dry and I didn't have any money. You served me."

"Yeah," she answered flatly.

"You gave me something for free. Um…."

"Chocolate cake."

"Yeah, chocolate cake, that's right." There she was. Lisa was the chocolate cake girl, now he remembered her. He had asked her if there was a cheap motel in town and she had said her parents had a place he could use for a few days. She'd been really nice to him, and one thing had led to another. It had been pleasant spending time with someone for a few days without thinking about a hunt, he had enjoyed the break. But then the car was fixed, his Dad was waiting for him and he had left. Probably abruptly. He couldn't remember if he had said goodbye, but in general he didn't, he preferred to avoid the whole female emotional scene.

"Huh." Dean commented, staring at his pizza. Just because he could now place her, didn't make things any less awkward. He had never intended his time with Lisa to be anything more than a one night stand (spread out over three days), and he could be fairly certain he had never promised her any more than that.

Lisa was looking at him, waiting for him to say something and her attention made him uncomfortable.

"So….how've you been?" he asked, trying to find something to fill the silence.

"Fine."

Great, she wasn't going to make this easy for him. "Well you look- terrific." He knew that sounded insincere but she did look good. He could see why he was attracted to her four years ago, pretty face, nice body. Lisa raised one unimpressed eyebrow at the compliment.

"Did Sam say when he was going to be back?" Dean enquired, looking hopefully toward the door.

"No."

Dean took a deep breath. "Listen, about four years ago, I'm sorry if I hurt you, it wasn't my intention. I really enjoyed spending time with you. We had fun. Didn't we have fun?"

"Small fun," she conceded. This was what she wanted to hear. Some apologizing.

"I take it Sam told you what we do?"

She nodded.

"Well then you understand why I couldn't stay. No matter how much I wanted to." _Don't go overboard_ he told himself, _she'll see through it._ "This job has us moving constantly, saving people, hunting things. We never stay in one place for long."

"You could have asked me to come with you," she suggested.

"Oh hell no," he replied. How much of a lifestyle cramper would that be, having a chick with him on the road? "It's much too dangerous. What if something happened to you? How could I live with that?"

Lisa softened at that sentiment. She had already seen how dangerous the job could be so she could understand him wanting to protect her from that.

"Why didn't you ever call?" she persisted.

"Because I didn't know when I would be able to see you again, and I didn't want to make promises I couldn't keep. I couldn't offer you anything Lisa, it was better to let the relationship go."

"You could at least have said goodbye," she said.

"Yeah I should have, I'm sorry. But saying goodbye is hard sometimes."

Lisa wasn't exactly buying all that Dean was selling, but putting the spin that he suggested on events certainly made the rejection more bearable. She thought about whether she wanted to let him off the hook or whether she wanted to take issue with some of his 'explanations'. He could have called. He could have explained things better at the time. He could have done a lot of things differently.

Lisa sighed and looked away. She didn't want to harbour any more ill will toward Dean. She'd held onto her rage for four years but now she had a different perspective and over the past week the rage had receded. Sure Dean had some piggish tendencies but Sam had told her things about their life which gave her a better understanding of Dean. He wasn't a bad guy. In fact he was a pretty good guy from what Sam said. And he had saved her life at great risk to himself. She didn't want to rant and rave at him. She had her apology, she had her explanation and at least he remembered her now. And she wasn't entirely blameless in this whole thing, she had expected way too much from a guy she barely knew.

"It was really hurtful," she said softly, "the way you left and didn't look back." She wasn't going to go on about this, she just wanted him to know how she felt.

"I'm sorry," Dean replied with a sincerity that Lisa didn't doubt and those words were enough to put the matter to rest. She gave him a smile which he returned. "Friends?" he asked.

"Well, now wait a minute," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "I don't want to let you off too easy. I guess I could be friends if you were to admit that I was the best sex of your life and leaving me was the hardest thing you've ever had to do."

Dean almost choked on his pizza. "I have to admit what?"

"You heard me. And that's a good deal. I've got four years worth of bitching stored up and ready to go, but you can cut right through it by making those admissions."

"I don't know," he hedged. "That's a high price for friendship."

Dean looked at Lisa with amusement. He could tell by the smile on her face that she was having fun with him, testing him to see what he would say. His initial reaction was to tell her to piss off with her admissions, but he wasn't sure that would go down very well. Given they had to live in close quarters and their relationship was dicey anyway that probably wasn't his best option. He wondered what would happen if he refused to take her deal. He liked the idea of playing this game with her and seeing how far he could push it.

"How about I'll give you top 10 for sex and some regret at leaving," he countered.

"Top 10?" she exclaimed. "Are you trying to insult me? I can't go any lower than top 3 and I want to hear you shed some tears at leaving."

Dean laughed. "Lady, you got the wrong guy. I'll give you your top 3 but you got to leave me with some dignity."

"Okay, top 3 and regret at leaving," she conceded.

"Are these admission just between the two of us or do I have to go around telling people?" Dean asked.

"Between the two of us. Although you may like to slip it into a conversation with Sam. I'll leave that up to you."

"And if I make these admissions I'm off the hook right? The slate is clean?"

"Yep."

After a moment's pause Dean said, "Then let me just say that you were in the top 3 for sex and I really regretted leaving."

"Really? What a lovely thing to say," she replied with mock sincerity. "I guess we can be friends then."

The tension between them immediately dissipated and they grinned at each other.

"So how come you're still working at the diner?" Dean asked. "I thought you were studying?" He hoped like hell he wasn't thinking of some other girl.

"Yeah I was studying computer science, but then Tommy came along and it all got too hard. I needed an income more than an education, so I never finished the degree. I might finish it one day"

"Are you still with Tommy's father?"

Lisa's heart skipped a beat. Here was her chance to come clean and say those fateful words to Dean _you are Tommy's father,_ but she already knew she wouldn't. She had made that decision days ago. It was better for everyone if she kept her secret. She replied as casually as she could, "No," and shook her head briskly. "He left very early on. It's just me and Tommy."

"Must be tough."

"Sometimes," Lisa admitted. "Mom's great though," she continued quickly. "She looks after Tommy when I work. She looks after him if I need a bit of space. And he's a good kid, you know, he's not hard work. There's more ups than downs."

Lisa had had enough of talking about herself and looked for a way to deflect the conversation onto him. "So how about you? Hey, I can't believe you never mentioned you had a brother."

"Didn't I?" Dean commented vaguely, "because I definitely have a brother." He guessed that he had met Lisa during the Sam at Stanford years and it had been a sore subject at the time. He had kept it close to his chest how much he missed Sam and he had avoided talking about him where possible.

"Yeah I know now," she laughed. "It was quite a surprise to meet him. He's kinda-" Lisa wasn't sure what she wanted to say.

"What?"

She settled on, "Different from you."

Dean gave a short laugh. "Chalk and cheese, yeah I know." He finished the pizza and put the plate beside him on the bed. He was feeling tired again, he hadn't had enough sleep to counter the very active morning. "He's the geek, I'm the muscle, it seems to work for us" he jibed.

"_He's_ the geek?" she queried. "I've seen him without a shirt on this week and he looks pretty muscley, which makes you….?"

"Hey," Dean objected, "Trust me, he's the geek. Have you checked out these muscles?"

"I have as a matter of fact, they're very nice."

"Nice?" he repeated in disgust. "Maybe I should take my shirt off."

Lisa put up her hands as Dean reached for his shirt. "No that's not necessary, they're lovely." Another look of disgust and a reach for the shirt. "Rippling. I meant rippling."

Dean thought for a moment and said, "I can live with that." He smiled and shook his head, "Wait until I tell Sam you were ogling him. That is so demeaning. He may need counselling."

"He practically paraded in front of me," she protested, "what was I supposed to do?"

"Avert your eyes. Clearly-"

Dean drew in a sudden breath as sharp pain started to emanate from his back. Lisa's eyes clouded with worry when she saw his discomfort. She remembered she was here by herself and her panic at having to perform a medical service returned.

"I'm going to have to change positions," Dean explained.

"Why don't you lie down," Lisa suggested. "You look like you could use some sleep. You look awful."

Dean smiled at her bluntness. "Then the outside matches the inside," he replied.

The young woman took away the pillows she had added to the stack and threw them back onto Sam's bed. She hovered over Dean as he slid down in the bed, not really knowing how to help. The injured man found laying down a much easier position to get into than sitting up and didn't need her assistance.

Lisa picked up the plate laying on the bed and stood up to leave.

"Thanks for the pizza," Dean said as he closed his eyes.

"You're welcome," she replied with a warm smile.

For all the hurt and disappointment Lisa had felt toward Dean over the years, for all the times Lisa had cursed him and determined that she would give him a piece of her mind if she ever saw him again, that conversation had been much better than some yellathon, she had really enjoyed talking with him.

And she discovered that her feelings for him had changed. He was beautiful to look at, fun to talk to, but she had a sense of been there done that. She didn't feel that history might repeat itself with Dean, she didn't want to go down that road again.

She felt bad about not telling him he was Tommy's father but he had his life, she had hers. He didn't need the complication and she was happy with the staus quo, why go making trouble?

When she was at the door she turned and gazed at Dean for few moments. She wondered if she would have treated him differently if he hadn't looked so sick.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Dean awoke as light was starting to fade. He could hear people talking in the other room. Sam was back from his trip to the park with Tommy. Thank Christ because Dean's need to go to the bathroom was now a priority.

"Sam!"

The younger brother's head quickly poked through the door. "Yeah?"

Dean's eyes flicked toward the bathroom.

"Okay."

Dean threw the covers off of him and shifted himself in the bed. When Sam came over to help, Dean put his hand up to stop him. "Just let me see how much I can do before you start helping," he requested.

Sam stood back and watched his brother work his way into a sitting position with his legs over the side of the bed. It had been a struggle but Dean was certainly getting better with his balance.

"Can you bring the chair a bit closer?" the injured man directed.

Sam brought the wheelchair parallel to the bed so that it was almost touching Dean's knees. Dean reached his hand over to the furtherest armrest on the chair and using that for support slid himself off the bed and easily into the wheelchair.

"Huh," Dean exclaimed. "Maybe I don't need you after all."

The younger man pushed his brother to the bathroom. When they were outside the door Sam stood behind the wheelchair unsure about his role in the next phase of this operation.

"What do you want me to do?" Sam asked.

"Just let me lean on you so I can get up."

Sam moved around to the side of Dean and held out his arm for his brother to hold onto. Dean put one hand on Sam's forearm and the other on the door handle and pulled himself upward. He was so focused on keeping his body strong that he forgot about the danger in rising too quickly. His satisfaction at getting himself out of the chair and standing disappeared when once again the sudden change in height smacked the injured man in the head with vertigo. He cursed under his breath as the room started spinning, his vision became blurred and with a small groan, he stumbled against the door. Sam quickly stepped behind his brother and threw his arms around Dean's chest.

"I got you," Sam reassured.

Dean leaned into his brother, letting Sam take his weight and keep him upright until the dizziness had passed. "Oh man, I'm going to have to work on that," he said weakly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Passing out in the bathroom is not a good look."

Sam kept a tight grip on his brother until he felt him starting to take his own weight. When Dean had himself balanced, Sam released his hold and the older man shuffled into the bathroom while Sam waited outside the door. Soon the younger brother heard the toilet flush and Dean shuffled out leaning heavily against the wall. With a wry smile, the injured man gave a thumbs.

Sam immediately moved to his brother's side and put an arm around him, certain he was about to collapse, but Dean shoved him away. "I've got it," the older man groaned.

The injured man was determined to complete this task with as little assistance as possible. He eased himself into the chair, a little more heavily than he would have liked and Sam pushed him back to the bedside. Getting from the chair to the bed, Dean was wary this time of the dizziness waiting to strike if he wasn't careful. He had to figure out a way of pulling himself up slowly and/or not raising himself to his full height to avoid that head spin. But there was more to it than that, moving around was a logistical exercise. His left leg was a little weaker than his right so he had to lead with his right side, if he twisted a certain way that was going to cause a pain in his back, if he straightened too quickly he was going to cause a different pain. There were all these actions and reactions he had to consider before making a move. The problem was he was too impatient to think things all the way through. He usually ended up just going for it.

Dean hesitated in the chair as he considered the mental mathematics of what he wanted to do, but Sam interpreted his brother's hesitation as an indication he needed assistance. He moved around to the side of the chair and put his arm under Dean's shoulder.

"Wait a minute," the older man growled and shook his brother's arm off. "Jeez for someone determined not to help you're pretty quick to jump in."

Sam took a step backward with a sigh. He was only trying to make things easier. It was ironic that Sam had made a song and dance about not helping Dean when he left the hospital and Dean was the one trying to minimize the assistance. It was just hard standing back and watching his brother do something painful.

Using the armrests, Dean pushed himself out of the chair onto his feet, but stayed doubled over, his hands on his thighs, to avoid the change of height problem. He slowly drew himself up to his full height then shuffled the few steps to the bed, where he eased himself gently but stiffly down into a sitting position, then to a lying position. It wasn't graceful, and it wasn't without its painful twinges, but Dean was pleased that he had undertaken the whole going to the bathroom exercise with minimal assistance. He considered that next time he could do it without Sam's help.

When he was safely back on the pillows and under the covers the injured man brought a hand up to his face and closed his eyes for a moment to try and calm his too fast heartbeat and the aches that were attacking his body. He opened his eyes to find Sam watching him closely, worry written all over his face and he gave a short laugh. "Who knew going to the bathroom could be such an ordeal."

"You're definitely getting better," Sam offered and noting the winces coming from his brother added, "I bought you the strongest pain killers I could find today, you want them now?

"Hell yeah," Dean answered with a vehemence that told Sam his brother was in agony. Sam had the feeling that over the counter medicine for his brother's injury was like an ant taking on an elephant, but at least it was better than nothing.

"I put them in the draw here so you can reach them when you need them." Sam went over to the draw in the bedside table and pulled out the small bottle. He handed it to Dean then went to get a glass of water. He returned with the water and while his brother was medicating himself, Sam said, "I heard that you and Lisa talked while we were out."

"Yeah, we did."

"Was there yelling?"

"Nah, it was okay."

"So you two are cool? Issues resolved?"

"Yeah. At least I remember her now." With a cheeky smile Dean continued, "She was top 3 for sex." The older brother knew the younger man wouldn't understand the private joke and he waited to see what Sam would say.

Sam gave his brother a disapproving look. "Dude don't do that."

"What?"

"Don't reduce her to a sex object. She doesn't deserve that." Sam felt a loyalty to the young woman for the part she had played in keeping him together over the last week. If not for her compassion and understanding Sam probably would have spent his time rocking in a corner overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow at the predicament he had brought upon his brother. He didn't want to hear her made fun of.

Dean tried to placate his brother. "Dude, it was a joke. A joke that Lisa made. You need to chill."

"Well it wasn't funny."

Sam looked away, not wanting to say any more because if he did Dean would jump to the conclusion that something was going on between him and Lisa.

"Is something going on between you and Lisa?" Dean asked.

The younger brother sighed and rolled his eyes at the predictability of the question. "No Dean there isn't. I've been living with Lisa for a week now and I really like her. So just be nice okay?"

"So there is something going on between you two?"

"No there isn't." Sam repeated with exasperation. "Why is there no middle ground for you? I like her as a person. As a friend. That's it." Sam was starting to feel like he was protesting too much. Maybe there _was_ something going on between him and Lisa. He hadn't thought so. He hadn't intended it. Although he had to concede that he did enjoy her company. Ah crap, now he was going to have to think about this. But not now, there were more important things to think about now than whether he wanted to make a move on a woman who had already been with his brother. Yikes. That was an unpleasant thought. He wasn't sure he could get past that for a start.

Dean could see his brother's wheels turning and it caused a smile to spread across his face. He found it humorous that his brother was so slow when it came to women. He had no doubt that it hadn't even occurred to Sam that he might like this girl. His little brother wasn't playing coy, he really was this clueless.

Now that Dean had got him thinking, Sam found the smug amusement on his brother's face annoying and warned, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Dean laughed. "Although you know my feelings on the subject. I'm all for you getting a little loving. Your choice of women makes for an interesting twist though."

_Just ignore him_ Sam thought. _The more you say the more smart ass comments you're going to hear._ The hell Sam would get from his brother if something did happen with Lisa was probably enough of a reason not to go there. The younger man quickly changed the subject. "Are you going back to sleep now?"

"Nice change of subject," Dean commented. "Not at all suspicious."

Sam's jaw clenched and he gave his brother a dark look. Dean knew that he had said enough on the subject of Lisa. "Back to sleep? I don't know. Why?"

"Could you watch Tommy while I help get dinner ready?"

Dean almost said something about Sam cooking a romantic meal but he got the feeling he was close to getting thumped. "I guess I can watch Tommy for a little while."

"You feel up to it?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess." It was hard for the injured man to judge if he was up to looking after Tommy when he hadn't met the kid yet. If he was some hyper nightmare he was going to be calling for Sam pretty quick. And he wasn't sure how long he could keep a child entertained being so limited in his movement. He may have to resort to a burping competition. He shifted in the bed until he was once again sitting with his legs over the side.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at his brother in confusion. "I'm- coming to watch Tommy."

"No, no, I'll bring him in here. Lay down."

"How am I supposed to entertain him laying down?"

"He's got card games and stuff, you don't need to get up."

"Oh," this gig was sounding easier already. Dean should have known that Sam wouldn't ask him to do something that involved any kind of exertion. The injured man swung his legs back onto the mattress and moved himself higher in the bed so that he was sitting up, leaning against the wall. He gave his brother a nod to indicate he was ready to babysit.

"Great. I'll get him." Sam left the room and returned moments later hand in hand with the little boy.

_So this is Tommy_ Dean thought as he finally laid eyes on the boy he'd heard so much about. Cute kid.

Tommy looked nervous about coming into the room, he'd obviously be worded up on not bothering Dean. Sam brought Tommy to the side of the bed and stood behind him with his hands on his shoulders.

"Tommy, this is my brother Dean."

"Hi Tommy." Dean shot him a smile.

"Hi Dean," was the shy response. "Are you sick?"

"Nah, just a bit sore," the injured man replied. The differentiation was important to Dean, he wasn't sick he was injured, sickness was wimpy, injury was macho.

"Do you need medicine?" the little boy asked.

"Sometimes."

"Medicine is gross," Tommy announced. "I had medicine when I was sick and it tasted like cherries." The boy made a distasteful face, like cherries were the worst thing in the world.

"Some people like cherries," Dean said with amusement. "Some people would think that medicine is delicious."

Tommy howled with laughter. "No they wouldn't."

Dean smiled and raised an eyebrow at his brother as if to say _easy audience_. "I'll come and get you when dinner's ready," Sam told Tommy.

"Okay," the little boy replied without looking at the dark haired man. He was fumbling in his pocket for something as Sam left.

"What have you got?" Dean asked.

"Go Fish. Do you know how to play?"

"Sure, it's one of my personal favourites," Dean responded. "Why don't you walk around the bed and come and sit over here." Dean patted the bed next to him and was impressed when the kid didn't try and take the short cut over him. Tommy did as Dean suggested, walked around the bed then climbed up and sat cross legged next to the man. Dean took the cards out of the boy's hands and started to shuffle them.

"So are we playing for money?" Dean enquired. The little boy looked at him blankly. "That's okay, we'll keep it friendly today, but next time I'm not dealing until I see coinage."

The two of them played Go Fish for about half an hour, then Sam came back in to collect Tommy for dinner. When Dean and Tommy looked up at Sam as he came in the door, side by side on the bed, the young man saw the same eyes twice and it took his breath away. All of a sudden a shocking realization dawned on him and he tried to do some quick mental arithmetic, but he didn't know exactly when Tommy was born and he didn't know exactly when Dean and Lisa had been together so he could only speculate on his theory, but it was possible that Dean could be Tommy's father. Wouldn't Lisa have said something though? Sam almost turned around to go and speak with Lisa about it.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"D-Dinner's ready," Sam stuttered.

"Dinner must be awful to warrant that face." The injured man turned to the little boy conspiratorily and said in a low voice, "What do you think Tommy, broccoli burgers?"

"No," the little boy laughed.

"Fish milkshake?" Dean persisted.

"No!" Tommy cried.

"Its got to be something gross, look at Sammy's face."

"It's pasta," Sam interjected. "Very nice pasta," he added before Dean gave it some disgusting slant.

"Yay pasta," the little boy cheered and jumped off the bed, running into the other room.

"Yay pasta?" Dean gave his brother an enquiring look. "Who yays at pasta? Has that kid ever tasted McDonalds?"

Sam gave a half hearted smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asked his brother with a frown. Sam looked pale and he had an expression on his face that Dean couldn't read. The last thing they needed was for Sam to be coming down with something.

"Yeah." Sam looked away, uncomfortable under his brother's gaze. He didn't want to tell Dean what he was thinking in case he was way off base. "You want to come eat with us?"

"Nah, I can't," Dean replied tiredly. He barely had the energy to slide down in the bed, there was no way he could go into the other room and sit at the table.

"What if we were to eat in here?" Sam offered.

"Not tonight," Dean said. He appreciated that Sam wanted him to be a part of this little family he'd created for himself but it was getting near the end of a trying day and he couldn't see himself holding up.

"Okay. Do you want me to bring you some dinner?"

Dean exhaled loudly. All he wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep but if he didn't eat something now he'd wake up starving in the night. "Yeah thanks Sammy."

Sam went to fetch his brother some dinner and could barely look at Tommy and Lisa sitting at the table. He wasn't sure he could sit with them tonight pretending that everything was normal when he suspected something huge was going on here. He stole some glances at Tommy and was stunned that it hadn't occurred to him earlier how physically similar to Dean the child was. Seeing them next to each other it had been immediately apparent. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Dean was Tommy's father.

The young hunter looked at Lisa nervously. He had to ask her the question but it was not going to be an easy conversation. And he had to very careful about how he went about it, she could be insulted if his suspicions were wrong. Now that the possibility of Dean being Tommy's father had occurred to him it was going to play on his mind until he knew whether it was true or not. He was going to have to talk to Lisa about it tonight.


	13. Chapter 13

Once again this was either going to be a short chapter or a long one, so I went with long this time. I like to mix it up.

And for those of you worried about the Lisa and Sam relationship, I'm not trying to write a Springer episode here, but they have helped each other through a very tough week, its natural they would feel close (well I thought so anyway).

* * *

Chapter 13

Later that night, Lisa and Sam were sitting together on one of the beds in Lisa's room watching a movie. Tommy was asleep nearby and Dean was asleep in the other room.

Lisa was annoyed that they weren't going to be talking about an end to the demon situation tonight. Sam wanted Dean involved in that conversation and with the injured man falling asleep early, the conversation was going to be deferred again. But the young woman was pretty much out of patience with the state of affairs. She wanted some answers. How long was she going to be confined to this motel? It was claustrophobic and isolating not being able to go outside. Sam was so militant about it, she couldn't take the garbage out, she couldn't get something out of the car, she couldn't walk across the carpark to the soda machine, things that would have her outside for only minutes at a time he insisted she didn't do. Anybody would think the demon was just outside the door laying in wait, but Lisa had looked out the window numerous times a day and there was no-one around. The confinement was too strict, it was worse than prison.

For the last week when the young woman had brought up the demon situation Sam had put her off by asking her to wait until Dean got out of the hospital. Now Dean was out and nothing had really changed. He certainly wasn't in any state to offer her protection or assistance and Lisa just knew that the next time she brought it up the young hunter was going to say _wait until Dean gets a little stronger_. Well no more. She could understand Sam's point of view, his brother had been through a terrible ordeal and Sam wanted him to recover his health before they rushed into another demon confrontation, but Sam needed to understand her point of view. He was asking a lot of her. And yes it was for her own good, she knew that, but it had to come to an end. She had a life, family, friends, a job. She was done with living in limbo, either the brothers came up with some way to end this situation in the next few days or she was going back to her life. It wasn't that she had a death wish, she was terrified at the idea of putting herself in harm's way, but huddled in some crappy motel wasn't living.

There was an uncomfortable silence between Sam and Lisa as they sat together, each of them struggling with big issues and how to start the conversation. It was unusual for them to be quiet in each other's company, after a week of living together they had built up an easy rapport, but neither of them was aware of the others distraction, so caught up were they in their own thoughts.

"So tell me about you and Dean being together," the young man asked unexpectedly.

Lisa gave him a quick look. "Sam I've told you about me and Dean being together. We were only together 3 days, there really isn't any more to tell." She was irked that Sam had started this frivolous conversation when she had something important she was trying to find the words for.

"Well I know you two slept together," the hunter said and immediately felt crass for mentioning something so private. He was trying to bring the conversation around to the possibility of Dean being Tommy's father, but he was acutely uncomfortable discussing Lisa and Dean's sex life. It was an excruciatingly awkward conversation.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh really? You two discuss each other's sex lives do you?" she remarked tartly and then regretted her ascerbity. She guessed that Dean had said something to Sam about the top 3 joke they had made. Hell she'd encouraged Dean to mention it to his brother. The blush on Sam's face went all the way down his neck and she felt like a bitch for being so cruel to him.

"No. No. Not really," he stammered and focused his attention on his hands, "God this is awkward."

"What? What's awkward?" Lisa stopped thinking about the big issue she was grappling with as she started to suspect her companion was about to drop a bombshell on her. Talk of her and Dean sleeping together could only be leading in one direction and her stomach tightened.

"Is Dean Tommy's father?" Sam hadn't meant to ask the question quite so bluntly but he wasn't having any luck easing into it. He looked away, embarrassed by his prying.

"Sam." Lisa's head was reeling and she closed her eyes for a moment to pull herself together. What had tipped him off? It was probably inevitable that one of them was going to figure it out, the maths wasn't hard, although she had deliberately been vague about when she and Dean had been together. But she had fooled herself into thinking that she was going to be able to keep this secret. She'd been with Sam a week now and he hadn't put it together. And she didn't expect Dean to ask the question because they had used protection, she didn't think it would occur to him that she had gotten pregnant despite their precaution.

"Why would you ask that?" she said quietly.

"Because I think he might be."

Lisa stared at the dark haired man open mouthed, not sure how to handle this turn of events. _Deny it_ her brain was screaming _deny everything. You don't want to go down this path._ But it wasn't so easy to look into those sensitive hazel eyes and tell a bald faced lie. "It's not something I want to talk about," she said finally and shook her head to emphasize her statement.

"If I'm an uncle I'd like to know."

Oh God, she hadn't thought about that. This affected him too. But still, she had chosen her path and she was going to stick with it. "There's nothing to be gained from having this conversation."

"Are you kidding me? Dean being a father, me being an uncle? There are things to be gained."

"Don't do this," she pleaded.

"You're avoidance of the question is pretty much giving me an answer."

The young woman's lips thinned. He wasn't going to drop this and she had given him her best pleading eyes, he left her no choice but to resort to lies. "Then no, Dean isn't Tommy's father," she said decisively and looked back at the tv as if the matter was settled.

"Lisa," Sam said with reproach. He could tell by her reaction to the question that it was true.

She reluctantly met his gaze. "Sam please."

"You have to tell Dean."

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"He would want to know."

"Sam stop it. He's not Tommy's father. Just let it rest." She rubbed her hands over her face. She hated herself for lying to Sam but if she told him the truth everything would change. Pandora's box would be opened. She did not want that.

"Lisa, its not hard to prove these things. I could go to a pharmacy tomorrow and get a kit that's going to tell me if Dean is Tommy's father or not," Sam pressed.

Lisa drew in a deep breath, wounded that he would even think of going that far. Sam felt awful for threatening her but it was time to cut through the crap. He knew Dean was Tommy's father, her words were saying no, but her actions were saying yes and he needed her to stop the lies so that they could talk about it.

"You have to tell Dean," the young man insisted

Tears were welling in Lisa's eyes. He wasn't going to accept her lie, he wasn't going to give up and she felt her life spinning out of control. There was no point continuing with the charade, he'd figured it out and he was going to keep asking the question until she admitted the truth. She needed to cut this conversation short.

"No Sam, I don't. I don't have to tell Dean. Please just let me deal with this my way."

Lisa had thought long and hard over the last week about whether she wanted to tell Dean he was Tommy's father and she had made the decision to keep her secret. She truly felt it was the right decision and she didn't want Sam stirring things up. This situation was entirely accidental. Getting pregnant was accidental, meeting up with Dean again was accidental. Once this demon was off her back, she just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

The young hunter reached over and touched Lisa's cheek. He could see her turmoil and he was almost sorry he had figured the secret out. But this was too big to be swept under the carpet. He wasn't entirely sure why Lisa was so adamant about not telling Dean but he flattered her by thinking that she wanted to save his brother from that tumult and responsibility. And he knew that there must also be some selfish motives for not revealing her secret. Lisa must be worried about Dean involving himself in Tommy's life and how that would affect her. But Dean needed to know. Lisa could have the best motives in the world for keeping this secret and still Sam would be of the opinion that Dean should be told.

Sam's gentle touch made Lisa's tears flow in earnest. This secret she had kept from him over the last week had been like a weight on her and in a way she was glad Sam finally knew the truth, she didn't like keeping it from him. Every time he had played with Tommy she felt a pang of guilt that he didn't know who he was really playing with. But even though Sam now knew, it didn't change her determination to keep this from Dean. She didn't know what sort of demands the older man would make on her, didn't know what sort of vitriol he would rain on her for not telling him sooner. Then there would be issues about custody and maintenance and she was determined not to complicate either of their lives that way.

What could Dean really offer Tommy anyway? When he was leading this life of chasing the devil and his cohorts. As much as Lisa liked Dean on a personal level, it was much better that Tommy not have a father like that in his life, someone unsettled and reckless, someone who could lead her son into danger and suffering.

But she had convinced herself that keeping this secret was for Dean's benefit as well as her own. From what Lisa had seen and heard about the injured man over the last week, she was certain he didn't need this burden of responsibility. His life was a constant struggle, he had enough on his plate without throwing an unexpected child into the mix.

Lisa was steadfast in her decision not to tell Dean the truth, absolutely sure it was the right thing to do.

"I'll help you tell him if you want," Sam offered gently. "You don't have to do this alone."

"What?" Lisa pushed the dark haired man away from her and roughly dried her eyes. She thought this show of tenderness had been about Sam respecting her feelings, agreeing to do this her way. Not about her giving in.

"I'm not telling him Sam. And if you don't let this drop I will take Tommy and you will never see us again, demon or no demon."

Sam drew back like she had hit him. How could she live with herself keeping the truth from Dean? And Tommy? A boy deserved his father. He was stunned that she intended to keep up this pretense. And even more stunned that she expected him to keep this secret too.

Now he was in a terrible predicament. He couldn't keep this from his brother, but he believed Lisa when she said she would bolt if he tried to force the issue. She had the look of someone cornered and desperate. Sam could tell Dean the secret in private but there was no way that big mouth could keep it to himself. And why should he have to? After getting over the initial shock of being a father, Sam expected his brother would embrace the role. He loved family and he craved normality. This could be the best thing that ever happened to him.

The young hunter moved off the bed angry at Lisa for trying to deny his brother this. He didn't trust himself to continue with the conversation, afraid that his furious words would make things worse. He needed to calm down and think things through.

"I'm going to bed," he told her, good manners preventing him from just storming out.

"Good," she replied.

"We're going to talk about this again."

"No we're not Sam. You don't want to push me on this, trust me," she warned, her eyes ablaze.

As the angry man stalked out of the room Lisa's tears started to flow again. She knew she'd just lost her closest friend. She needed to think seriously about her next move. Stay and trust Sam to keep her secret, or leave and take her chances at being killed by the demon. What crap choices.

And she didn't get a chance to raise with Sam her dissatisfaction about the extended confinement. The thought of spending all of tomorrow in a room with the brothers, trying to pretend nothing was wrong, was unbearable. She had a strong instinct to flee and avoid the storm that was brewing but she didn't want to do anything drastic yet. Certainly though, she intended to get out for a period of fresh air tomorrow and take the opportunity to clear her head.

------

The next morning Dean came into the adjoining room for breakfast walking behind the wheelchair, using it for balance, determined not to sit in it anymore. Sam hovered nearby trying not to look like he was tailing his brother and it was bugging the hell out of Dean.

"Would you sit down," the older brother directed in annoyance.

When the injured man finally made it to the table he eased himself onto one of the wooden chairs, put his hands on the tabletop and rested his head on his hands.

"That was a long way," he groaned. "Has anyone measured that? Cos I think I just broke a record."

"Why don't you lie down?" Sam suggested.

Dean raised his head and shot his brother a withering look. "I just got to the table."

"You could lie on one of the beds in here."

"Stop fussing Sam. I'm fine." To prove his point, the injured man sat back in his chair. "Morning Tommy," he gave the little boy next to him a tickle and got a giggle in response.

"Morning Lisa," he gave the woman sitting across from him at the table a smile.

"Morning," she responded, while going through her head were words _just act natural, everything's fine. _"You want some cereal?"

"Yeah," he replied and Lisa got up to fetch him a bowl.

Tommy turned to Dean and said seriously, "You're not very good at walking."

"No, I suck little buddy."

Tommy glanced quickly at his mother to see if Dean would get told off for that comment and when nothing was said he continued, "I'm good at walking. I can hop too." He climbed off his chair and demonstrated some hopping.

"Wow, that's very impressive," Dean agreed. "Much better than anything I could do."

The little boy gave him an appreciative smile then climbed back onto the chair to finish his breakfast.

Sam was sitting on the bed furtherest from the breakfast table and Dean found it odd that he was so far away. The older man had thought his brother would love this sort of family stuff, all sitting at a table, having a woman make breakfast. This shit was gold.

"You having breakfast?" Dean called over to him.

"I had it earlier," Sam replied with a wan smile. He had been getting a very cold shoulder from Lisa this morning, and he wasn't too thrilled with her either. Better to keep their distance.

_Whatever_ the older man thought. He wasn't in the mood for trying to figure out his brother's strange disposition. As he hoed into the cereal that Lisa had deposited in from of him, he asked Tommy, "So what are you up to today champ?" Then he remembered that Lisa couldn't leave the motel and cursed his tactlessness, the kid probably wasn't going to be up to much.

The little boy turned his attention to Sam. "Can we go to the park today?"

"Sure."

"Can we go now?"

"You're still eating breakfast."

"Can we go in five minutes?"

"We can go later," Sam promised.

"Are you coming to the park today mommy?" the little boy asked with a slightly pleading tone in his voice.

"Yeah, I think I might," Lisa responded not looking at either of the brothers.

Dean shot his brother a surprised glance. _Did you know about this?_ the older silently asked. _No_ the younger responded.

"Ah, Lisa, that might not be a good idea," Dean remarked.

"Don't you start with me," Lisa snapped. "An hour outside is not going to kill me."

"Well-" the older hunter didn't want to say _as a matter of fact it could _with Tommy sitting right next to him. "Maybe we should talk about it."

"I'm having a shower." Lisa shot Dean a hostile look which had him bewildered then pushed her chair back and stood up. Her _just act natural_ mantra wasn't working and she needed to get away from the brothers. "Come on Tommy, lets get you cleaned up as well."

As Lisa and Tommy disappeared into the bathroom, Sam came over to sit next his brother at the table.

"What the hell?" Dean asked. "What's up with her?"

Sam gave a slight shrug and said, "I guess she's fed up with being a shut in."

_Liar_ Sam yelled at himself. He knew that Lisa's sudden insistence about going to the park had something to do with their conversation last night. She was probably trying to avoid being alone with Dean. Secrets and lies. The young man hated them and yet they seemed to play such a big part in their lives. But he wasn't ready to spill the beans on this one, there was too much at stake. He'd tell his brother soon, he just had to figure out how.

"Well that's tough," the older man commented.

"Yeah I know, but I can understand it. She wants some fresh air. She wants to play outside with Tommy. She's been inside for over a week now, it's a lot to expect, especially when there's no end in sight. Maybe we should cut her a break."

Dean hadn't noticed that his brother was being too strident in his defence of Lisa. A guilty conscience at work. The injured man was distracted by the pain in his back the hard chair was causing. He was trying to reposition himself but nothing was alleviating his strain.

Sam noticed that his brother had paled and asked, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. He pushed his chair back and leaned forward resting his head on the edge of the table.

"You want me to do anything?" Sam asked.

"No."

Sam waited for his brother to raise his head again, feeling useless.

"Ah crap," the older man muttered. He sat up in the chair, then raised himself to his feet, shuffled over to the nearest bed and lay down on it. "That's better," he sighed.

"So what are we going to do about the park?" Sam prompted.

"Tell her she can't go."

"You saw her Dean. I don't think grounding her is going to work. How long is she going to have to stay cooped up anyway?"

"As long as it takes."

"As long as it takes for what? There's been nothing over the last week, not even a hint of a demon. I've been keeping my eyes wide open for anything suspicious and I haven't noticed a thing. I think maybe the demon has moved on to some other victim."

Dean gave his brother a dubious look. "Since when does a demon just give up?"

"Maybe he hasn't given up," Sam said slowly, thinking things through. "Maybe he's just biding his time. Waiting for us to come out. How long are we prepared to keep Lisa a prisoner?"

Dean didn't have an answer for that. The question was moot anyway, it wasn't so much how long they were prepared to keep Lisa a prisoner, but how long they could keep her contained. The injured man tried to think laterally. "Maybe we should summon the demon. Bring things to a head," the injured man suggested.

"We don't know which demon it is," Sam pointed out.

Dean was thoughtful for a moment. Sam was right, Lisa was going to have to leave the motel at some point, she couldn't be a shut in for the rest of her life. All the demon had to do was wait them out, then pick her off. Maybe they should look at teaching Lisa what they knew about defeating a demon and let her go back to her life. Then hope like hell she was the victor when the demon came calling.

They were screwed.

"If Lisa is going to insist on leaving the motel today, and I think you should try and work a little Sammy magic on the subject, then we should do it this morning. Get it over with. I'm not at my best in the afternoons I don't think I'd be much good to you then." The injured man shook his head in disgust, "God I sound like I'm in kindergarten."

Sam knew that he wasn't going to be able to work any 'magic' on this problem. He was probably going to make things worse if he tried.

The young hunter's face darkened at his brother's assumption that he was coming to the park. He didn't want Dean there. He wasn't up for it. Even without a demon attack he wasn't up for it. He couldn't sit ten minutes on a chair, no way he could last a half hour or so on a park bench.

And what if the demon did attack them at the park? Dean was a sitting duck. A very slow sitting duck. The possibility of the older man getting tossed around was frightening to the younger brother. He hadn't yet recovered from the last attack, throwing him around with the injury he was already carrying could have disastrous consequences.

But how many times had Sam opposed his brother in the last week and how far had it got him? Was it even worth raising his objection? Yeah, he decided, it was.

"Listen Dean, I really don't want you to come to the park today. And I don't just mean a little bit I don't want you to come, I mean worst idea in the world I don't want you to come. I'm really afraid of what might happen to you. I don't know if I could go through the last week again."

Dean couldn't fire off something glib in the face of such a heartfelt plea. "Look Sam, I don't particularly want to come to the park, I would much rather we did this when I could walk five feet without it feeling like a marathon. But if Lisa is going to insist on doing this today then I'm coming with you."

Sam nodded. He hadn't really expected his brother to stay behind. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Scouts honour," Dean replied.

Sam gave him a sour look. "You know, you were never a scout, that means nothing."

The young hunter couldn't see Lisa changing her mind, so with a sigh he resigned himself to the idea that they were all going to the park this morning.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It was mid-morning when Sam pulled into the carpark beside a large grassed area that had a playground jutting out of the middle. The park was becoming an old friend to Sam, he'd been here a number of times in the last few days. He should probably scope the surrounding area and see what other parks he could take Tommy to.

Lisa unbuckled the little boy's seatbelt and he opened the heavy car door, slid out quickly and ran toward the swings. He was halfway there before he looked behind to check that his mother was following. "I want a swing," he called to her.

"Okay Tommy, I'm coming," she waved with a smile. Already Lisa's mood was improving. It was a beautiful day and it felt great being out in the sun. She felt normal. The demon attack had occurred a week ago and it seemed so remote now that she didn't feel like she was in danger anymore. Her mood was also improved by the fact that Sam hadn't taken the first opportunity to tell Dean that he was Tommy's father, she found that heartening, maybe she could relax on that score, maybe he would respect her wishes and keep it to himself.

Lisa started to make her way toward Tommy then turned back to the brothers still extricating themselves from the car and asked, "You okay here?"

Dean was insulted by the question and growled, "We're fine," as Sam brought the wheelchair to a stop beside the passenger side door. When Sam had packed the chair in the car Dean had muttered to him, "No freakin' way dude." No way was he going to sit in that thing in public, the idea of people seeing him as an invalid was mortifying. But as he contemplated refusing to get in, he noted with despair that the playground was a good forty feet away, it was way on the other side of the park and it was going to take an age to walk it, if he could walk it at all. The injured man looked around the park and winced at the number of people he could see. And they were mostly women. This was so bad for his image.

"Why don't you let me lean on you," Dean suggested to his brother. "We don't need the chair."

"No way," Sam retorted. "I'm not taking baby steps with you all that way, it'll take us half an hour to get there."

The older man pursed his lips and considered his options. Swallow his pride and be wheeled around like an invalid or wait in the car. It really wasn't any competition, if he stayed in the car he was too far away from the playground to be useful if something happened.

With a deep, begrudging sigh, he shifted himself out of the car and into the wheelchair. "You suck man."

"All part of the service," Sam replied with a slight smile.

Sam wheeled his brother over to a park bench by the play equipment taking a good measure on the way of the people in the vicinity and anyone who looked untoward or out of place. He noted four mothers at the playground with their children, and an older couple walking the perimeter of the park. No-one was skulking around or eyeing them suspiciously, so far it all looked normal.

Dean was casing the scene from between his fingers, he had his hands over his eyes, trying to hide his face and minimise his humiliation. He too had noted who was at the park and drawn the same conclusion as Sam, so far so good.

When Sam drew the chair to a stop next to a bench a few feet from the playground, Dean almost toppled over in his haste to get out of the chair. Sam put a steadying hand on him and helped him onto the bench. The brothers sat next to each other watching Lisa push Tommy on the swing.

It was therapeutic to the injured man being out in the fresh air. He'd been confined almost as much as Lisa in the last week and his senses devoured the sights and sounds of this new location.

"I remember when you were about Tommy's age," Dean addressed his brother with a smile, "you were a sucker for the swing as well. My arm used to get tired from pushing you. But you always wanted more, you couldn't get enough of it."

Sam gave a short laugh. "Who doesn't like the swing?"

"I was more of a slide man myself," Dean returned. "I felt like the king of the castle on the top of that thing."

Sam smiled and then frowned. "I don't remember going to the park that often."

"We went a few times," Dean replied, immediately on the defensive about their unconventional childhood. He didn't want the conversation to turn into a criticism of their father and the way he had raised them.

"I don't remember Dad ever coming."

Dean replied with a mild shrug. "Yeah well. He was busy."

Lisa took Tommy off the swing and he raced over to the nearby climbing frame, the mother staying close to make sure he didn't attempt anything too dangerous. There were two other mothers near the climbing frame and Lisa started talking to them. Although the brothers were too far away to hear what was being said, by the looks the women were throwing at the children, they appeared to be sharing stories about the kids.

Dean smacked his brother on the leg playfully and asked, "So have you made a move on Lisa yet?"

Sam looked away. "Nah," he said quietly.

"Why not? Come on man, don't overthink this. Just make a move and don't sweat the small stuff."

Sam's eyebrows drew together. _Don't sweat the small stuff? _If only his older brother knew how complicated it was. _Just tell him _a voice inside yelled. But out here, exposed and vulnerable was not the time for that sort of confession. And he was still hoping Lisa would do it. He shouldn't be sharing other people's secrets, it should come from her.

"It's not that easy," was all the younger man said.

"Its not that hard either," Dean replied, frustrated that his brother wouldn't let himself go and take a chance.

Tommy called out from the climbing frame, "Sam watch this." Tommy climbed to the top of the frame and waved his hand. "Can you see how high I am?"

"I can buddy. You be careful up there," Sam called back.

Sam stood up, he couldn't sit next to his brother anymore, the guilt at not telling him what was going on was too much. The younger brother gained a new insight into the months of suffering Dean must have endured keeping from him the secret their father had entrusted before his death. It was an awful feeling holding inside something life altering about the person you cared for the most.

"I might go and relieve Lisa," Sam said and Dean watched him lope over to the young mother. Lisa watched him come, unsure as to whether something was wrong, but his unhurried pace told her that he was just coming over to talk. She got butterflies in her stomach as she wondered what new threats or demands he was about to make on her.

Sam stood beside Lisa awkwardly, worried that at his first words they might start arguing. He put a hand nervously to his neck as he began, "Look Lisa. I don't want to fight with you. There must be some way we can work this out and still be friends."

The young woman was grateful for the olive branch. She didn't want to be enemies with Sam, especially when they'd become so close over the last week. Her anger at him receded, she knew he wasn't unreasonable, they just had very different points of view on this particular subject. She felt sad about this whole turn of events and the way it had affected their friendship.

"I don't want to fight either," she turned to him with a slight, apologetic smile. "But I don't know how we're going to work this out. I don't want to tell Dean that he's Tommy's father. You've got to remember that Dean just left, without so much as a seeya later. And it was devastating, dealing with that rejection, then having to go through a pregnancy on my own. Its not fair for you to come back four years later and say _I think Dean should be involved now._ I've made sacrifices. I've done the hard yards. I deserve to raise my son the way I want without the interference of some guy who couldn't give a shit about me four years ago." She shook her head as she felt herself getting emotional. "It's not fair Sam. Things should just stay as they are."

Sam was silent, troubled by the fact that he could see Lisa's point of view.

From the other side of the playground Dean sighed. Watching Sam and Lisa together, they looked like a couple. With Tommy they looked like a family. It caused a knot to form in Dean's stomach because he didn't know if Sam would ever have this for real. His own family, his own son. And it was something he deserved, something he would be good at, something he really wanted.

More and more lately Dean was feeling regret at the way they lived. When he was younger he had loved this lifestyle, moving around, battling evil, it was invigorating, it was fun. But with the resurgence of demons in the last few years, and the death of their father, he was starting to feel like a kamikaze pilot, taking on impossible missions. The job had lost its lustre. But it was all he knew and he couldn't see a way out of it. As long as these supernatural beings existed and his actions could save lives, he couldn't just walk away. He couldn't live with himself if he did.

But Sam deserved better. He didn't want this life, he had made that abundantly clear when he went away to college. There had been a high cost to his younger brother for making that choice, their father had practically disowned him for leaving, and to appease his father Dean had been forced to do the same, but Sam had been determined not to take the path traveled by their father. He had been willing to give up his family to forge his own way. And yet here he was. Living hand to mouth, moving place to place, facing down unspeakable creatures, following the path traveled by their father. It wasn't right.

The worst of it though, was that Dean couldn't stand the idea of doing this job without his brother by his side. He was completely torn down the middle, wanting his brother to have more, but not wanting to let him go.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by a shadow falling across him. A woman was standing next to him, one of the mothers Lisa had been talking to earlier. "Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked.

"No," he replied with a polite smile.

"Thanks. Chasing kids around is exhausting work." She looked toward the playground and waved at a little girl on the slide. "Is that your son over there?" She nodded toward Tommy.

"Oh God no," he replied vehemently. Dean was surprised that she knew he had arrived with Tommy and figured Lisa must have mentioned it when they were talking earlier. "No, I don't have any kids, I'm just here with a friend."

The woman laughed at the forcefulness of his response. "You know kids aren't the worst thing in the world. They can be kind of fun. And its nice seeing yourself in them. I think you'd really enjoy having a son."

What the hell was she on about? That was pretty presumptuous telling him what he might enjoy? Dean cast the woman a sideways glance then froze when she gave him a smile and her eyes filmed black. Or at least he thought they filmed black. It was a split second glance and he was looking into the sun. When he looked again her eyes were normal. He wasn't sure if he'd seen it or if he was paranoid. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable.

His hand flew to the gun hidden in his waistband but he thought better about pulling it out in such a public place, especially when he wasn't sure if the danger was real or imagined. The woman's smile faltered under the young man's intense scrutiny. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied as he pushed himself off the chair and stood up unsteadily. His stamina was tailing off and he didn't think he could negotiate the uneven ground to where Sam stood. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay standing. He was stuck. "I've just- My brother-" Dean pointed over at Sam as if that explained everything.

"Do you want me to get your brother? Because you don't look well," the woman said and stood up nervously next to him. Her gaze kept flicking from him to Sam, she seemed unsure about what to do.

"No. No, I'm fine," Dean stammered. This was weird. A demon wouldn't be acting this way. Why feign concern for him, what was there to be gained in that? He had to be wrong about her.

He saw Sam starting to move toward him with a worried look on his face. "My brother's coming. Thanks," the injured man said.

"Okay," the woman replied with an uncertain smile and hastened over to where her daughter was playing. Dean saw the woman pull the little girl off the slide and with an apprehensive look at him hurry over to Lisa and say something in a low tone. With her daughter in her arms, the woman then made her way quickly toward the car park. _Great she thinks I'm a freak. Well same to you lady. _

"What's going on?" Sam asked as he brought his arm around his brother's back and under his shoulder, propping up his sagging body.

"I think I just saw the demon."

Sam's head was immediately up and searching the area. "Where? Are you sure?"

"That woman over there with the little girl." Dean tossed his head in the direction of the woman who was at her car buckling her daughter into a car seat. "I don't know man." Dean put a hand to his head. He felt tired and confused. "I thought I saw something in her eyes, but I don't know anymore."

"Okay." Sam appraised his brother. The older man was drawn and shaky, a sheen of sweat across his forehead attested to the strain his body was under being out of bed so long. Whether Dean had seen the demon or not, Sam wanted to get out of here before his brother dropped. "I'll get Lisa and Tommy. Just sit down for a minute, I'll be back."

Sam eased his brother into the wheelchair, then hurried over to round up Lisa and Tommy. Dean was starting to feel like he'd overreacted. Why would a demon sit next to him and not start something? It wouldn't. It made no sense. In an angry flash the hunter realized that if he'd said the word 'christo' he could have discovered whether the woman was possessed or not. He must be tired to make such a rookie mistake.

"I don't want to go," Tommy whined, on the verge of revolt. "Five more minutes."

Lisa had the little boy by the hand, both their arms at full stretch as he tried to get out of her grip and back to the playground. Sam picked him up and put him on his shoulders. "We'll come back again tomorrow," the young man assured. Tommy gripped the dark head tightly, thrilled at being up so high and was placated by the promise.

Lisa took hold of the wheelchair and pushed Dean toward the car, while he discreetly took the gun out his waistband and tucked it under his shirt ready for action.

As they were making their way to the impala, the car carrying the suspect woman and her daughter drove off. It crossed Dean's mind that she might lay in wait for them nearby. Maybe she was going to follow them back to the motel. But why put off an attack to later? What was wrong with doing it now? Was it because they were in a public place? Demons weren't usually shy about their attacks. It was all so bewildering.

With very little conversation, they all piled into the car, and made their hurried escape back to the motel.

-------

Back at their safe haven, Sam helped his brother out of the car, while Lisa took Tommy into their room and put on a DVD for him. When she was satisfied that the little boy was occupied she went into the adjoining room to discuss what had occurred at the park. Sam hadn't bothered getting Dean into the wheelchair, he had put his brother's arm around his shoulder and walked him to their room. But as the young mother came in, she saw that the injured man was almost doubled over from exhaustion and the younger man was struggling to get him to the bed. Lisa crossed the room and put Dean's free arm around her shoulder. His weight was heavy across her neck and she marveled that Sam had managed to get him this far on his own. It was a relief to all of them when Dean was finally laid on the bed.

Sam went back to the car and returned with a container of salt, which he used to top up the protective lines around the windows and doors in both rooms. When he was satisfied that the lines were thick and unbroken, he went back to their room and sat next to Lisa at the breakfast table. Dean was fading fast on the bed, finding it very hard to keep his eyes open now that he was laying down. He closed them for a minute, to ease their sting but snapped them open when he had the sensation of falling asleep. It was embarrassing being this worn out when it wasn't even midday yet. He hated feeling so weak. They had a job to do and he was going to have to take a nap, like a two year old.

"So tell us exactly what happened?" Sam asked in a low tone. Even though Tommy was in the other room, he was worried about the little boy hearing something he shouldn't.

"I don't know Sam," Dean replied tiredly. "This woman sat next me and when I looked at her I thought her eyes were black, but a split second later they were normal. I don't know if it was real, or if I imagined it, or if the sun was in my eyes…" his voice petered off.

"Did the woman say anything?" the younger brother pressed.

Dean was startled awake by his brother's voice. He rolled his head over to look at Sam and tried to open his eyes a little wider so he wouldn't nod off again. "She said something about kids being fun," Dean replied, "I don't know it was crap."

"Was she talking about Tommy?" Sam asked.

"Umm," the weary hunter lazily searched his mind for what the woman had said. "She thought I was Tommy's father and when I set her straight she said that I would enjoy having a son. It was nothing. It was crap."

Dean's eyes closed despite his best efforts and he didn't notice the look that passed between Lisa and Sam.

"I'll let you sleep dude, we can talk about it later."

Sam tilted his head at Lisa then toward the other room and she followed him out. When they were in the other room, Sam glanced at Tommy and thought, _there is nowhere to have a private conversation in this place_. The bathroom. Sam took Lisa's hand and pulled her into the poky bathroom.

As he closed the door, Sam said, "This isn't a joke anymore. The demon just taunted Dean about being Tommy's father. He needs to know the truth, now."

"I never thought it was a joke," Lisa bristled. "And I think you're reading too much into the conversation. I was talking to that woman earlier and I told her that I was at the park with you two. She was just being nosey, trying to figure out which one of you was the father. It was a lucky guess."

"No that's bullshit Lisa," the young man's voice rose and he made a concerted effort to bring it under control, so that Tommy wouldn't overhear them arguing. "This whole demon business has something to do with Dean being Tommy's father, I'm telling you. That is an important piece of information that my brother needs to know."

The young mother's eyes flashed with anger. "You're just looking for a way to force me into telling Dean something you know I don't want to tell him," she accused with a pointed finger. "Well it's not going to work. That conversation in the park was nothing, it was a coincidence. Nothing has changed. And I'm not telling him." Lisa turned and opened the door to leave, but Sam put his hand out and held the door shut.

"I am going to take Tommy out to get some dinner tonight," Sam said in a steady even tone that belied his cold fury, "and while we're gone, you are going to tell Dean he is Tommy's father."

Lisa snorted in disgust and tried to open the door. "If you don't," he continued, refusing to allow the young woman to leave, "then when I get back I am going to sit down with both Tommy and Dean and _I_ will tell them that they are father and son."

The enraged mother slapped Sam across the face, her hand leaving a nasty red mark on his cheek. It took all of the hunter's willpower not to slap her back.

"Either you tell Dean the truth tonight," the young man snarled, "or I will."


	15. Chapter 15

Things take a pretty nasty turn in this chapter, I'm a bit nervous about it. Brace yourself.

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Chapter 15 

When Dean woke a few hours later, he was amazed at the difference a bit of sleep could make to his mood. He was feeling good, capable, ready to be up and around again. He looked for the wheelchair so that he could walk behind it into the next room and then remembered that Sam had left it in the car. Dean could hear his brother in the other room talking to Tommy and he contemplated calling for assistance, but reliance on others was galling to him, he didn't like the lack of independence this injury brought. And he figured he could probably manage without the wheelchair. Why not? He didn't think going from walking holding on to something, to walking freehand was that big a leap.

Dean got himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and using the bedside table for support stood up. He was just about to let go of the table when a thought occurred to him. He sat down on the bed and reached under the pillow to pull out the handgun he had stashed there earlier. Lisa and Sam wouldn't approve of him carrying a weapon in the motel, not with Tommy around, he didn't really approve of it himself, but the possibility that the demon may be lurking made him want to be prepared for anything. If something happened, he wasn't going to be able to retrieve the gun quickly, he needed to have it on him.

He looked at the gun in his hand and wondered if he was going too far by putting it in his waistband. Sam was proficient at salt lines, no demon could get in now. But still, he had that nagging doubt, what if it could? What if it did? He weighed up the danger in carrying the gun against the danger in not carrying the gun, then tucked the weapon into his jeans.

Dean stood up again, ready now to start his walk to the other room. He made the interconnecting door his first target and noticed with a sinking feeling that it seemed a long way away.

The injured man took some time to make sure he was balanced, then slowly drew his arms away from the support and raised himself to his full height. But the change of position caused his centre of balance to shift and he couldn't find it again, he felt like a tightrope walker on a very small wire. He started to wobble and put his arms out to the side to steady him. He managed to draw his right foot forward but then teetered and ducked his body trying to avoid falling over. His left foot needed to come forward but he knew that as soon as it left the ground he was going to topple. Dean grabbed hold of the bedside table, abandoning this attempt at walking and brought his feet together ready to try again.

Over and over he tried to master the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other without holding onto something and was genuinely surprised that it proved so difficult. He could get that first foot forward but he couldn't bring the second up beside it. After a dozen attempts he was in a frustrated rage. _Don't lose it _Dean told himself, trying to keep a lid on his temper, _you just need to be patient_. But patience wasn't Dean's strong suit and he shoved the clock radio that was on the bedside table into the wall. When it bounced onto the floor he was satisfied to see pieces fly off it and he looked around for something else that he could vent his fury on.

Sam burst through the interconnecting door with a look of panic on his face. "What's going on in here?"

"Nothing," Dean snapped, feeling a bit sheepish that his show of anger had caused his brother to think he was in trouble. "Everything is just sunshine and lollipops."

Both sets of eyes traveled to the appliance in pieces on the floor and Dean added, "Except for the clock radio, it had some issues."

The younger brother didn't reply. He wasn't sure what had happened but the fact that Dean was standing was an indication to Sam that his brother had probably just found some new frustration in his injury. He really felt for Dean having to deal with the incapacity, his older brother couldn't just put on a brave face and pretend this injury didn't exist like he usually did. _Give it time_ Sam wanted to say, he was certain that in another month Dean would be back to normal and this whole recuperative period would be behind them. But telling his brother to be patient was like waving a red flag, better to say nothing.

"You want some lunch?" the younger brother asked.

"Yeah," the older man replied, grateful Sam didn't ask any more about why the clock radio was in pieces. "Anything happen while I was asleep?"

Sam's stomach flipped as he thought about what had occurred while Dean slept. _Lisa and I came to blows and in a couple of hours you're going to have a bombshell dropped on you_ he thought. He was starting to feel tense in anticipation of the big reveal, he hoped Lisa would do the right thing, but he was prepared to do it himself if need be. In answer to Dean's question all he said was, "Nope, not a thing."

The young man looked around for the wheelchair and then remembered that it was still in the car. "Did you want to come into the other room?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to get the wheelchair?"

"Nah, just let me hold onto you."

The younger brother crossed over to the injured man and together they walked at a snail's pace into the adjoining room, where Tommy was playing with trains on the floor and Lisa was sitting at the breakfast table reading. Dean let go of his grip on Sam when he was at the table. As the injured man eased onto a chair he noticed the daggers that Lisa and Sam were throwing each other with their eyes. _Trouble in paradise_ he thought. Sam didn't dally at the table, he moved to the kitchen and started making Dean a sandwich. _Don't blame you buddy_ was Dean's sentiment, no man liked being on the wrong side of a woman He stifled a smile as he thought about what might have sparked this war. Something lame, no doubt.

"I see Sam gave you our father's journal to look at," the hunter commented as he noticed what Lisa was reading.

"Yeah," the young woman replied without looking at him. "He thought I should learn a bit more about what I'm up against."

Dean nodded. "I guess it couldn't hurt."

From the corner of his eye Dean saw his brother leave the kitchen and wander over to sit next to Tommy on the floor. _Where's my sandwich?_ he wondered.

"Mommy?" the little boy called out uncertainly. Lisa looked over at her son then her hand flew to her mouth in fright. Dean turned to see what had upset Lisa and drew in his breath at the sight of Sam sitting behind Tommy holding the bread knife to his throat.

"Sam?" the older brother questioned. The younger man looked dazed, his expression blank and he didn't respond to his brother's call.

"Sam!" Dean said more loudly. "What's going on?"

"Huh?" All of a sudden Sam's eyes snapped into focus and he looked down at the knife in his hand held threateningly against Tommy's throat. "What the…?" Sam looked at his brother with a horrified expression. "I'm not- This isn't- Dean?"

"Just stay calm Sam," the older brother directed, not sure what the hell was going on. "Put down the knife."

Sam strained against himself. "I can't," he said helplessly, looking to his brother for some guidance or explanation.

Dean cursed under his breath. What new freakiness was this? "Stay still, don't move," Dean instructed. "I'll come and get the knife."

The injured man stood up and thought about how he was going to get to Sam. There was a large expanse between the brothers, they were at opposite sides of the room. He wished he had the wheelchair to walk behind. He threw a quick glance at Lisa, considering whether she could help him walk over to Sam.

"Lisa!" he called.

The young woman was frozen in terror, her hand still over her mouth. After a moments pause her eyes shifted onto Dean, but she looked uncomprehending, like she was struggling to process what was going on and her eyes quickly flicked back to Tommy. She wasn't going to be much help.

A grunt came from Sam. "Dean," the younger man called to his brother agitatedly. "Something's pulling my hand. I can't keep it still."

"I'm coming Sam, stay strong." The older hunter looked frantically around for some way to reach his brother. He knew he couldn't take the most direct route, he'd been through that exercise not ten minutes ago, if he didn't have something to hold onto he was useless. If he could get to the wall he could follow that around to his brother. But he was so damn slow. Dean despaired at how long it was going to take him to cross the room. He could see the effort on Sam's face, trying not to slash Tommy's throat, and silently Dean wondered whether he would be able to get over there in time.

The little boy started squirming, trying to free himself from the tight grasp.

"Be still buddy," Sam spoke gently. "I don't want to hurt you, so just be still."

Dean stood up and reached over to the kitchen counter, using that for support as he took some steps toward the wall. But he hadn't gone very far before he heard Sam cry, "Dean, I'm going to kill him, I can feel it."

There was no time. It was going to be costly minutes before he could reach his brother's side, he needed to find some other way to defuse the situation.

"Lisa!" he called, not sure what he was going to ask of her, but of the opinion that she was the only one who could fix this. Tears were streaming down Lisa's face. She didn't react to Dean's call, her eyes remained fixed on Tommy. "Lisa!" He tried again. But she was oblivious to everything except her son about to have his throat cut.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered through clenched teeth. In desperation, he pulled the gun out of his waistband and aimed it at his brother, then lowered the weapon. What was he thinking? He wasn't going to shoot Sam. There had to be some other way to get that knife away from Tommy's throat.

"Just shoot me," Sam yelled impatiently.

The older brother went cold at the suggestion. He looked from the gun, to his brother, to the distraught little boy. He couldn't. He couldn't shoot Sam, he would rather deal with the fallout from Sam slashing Tommy's throat than shoot his brother.

"Just do it Dean. Please," Sam pleaded as the knife pressed closer to Tommy's throat and drew blood. The little boy's whimper became a cry, the fear now intermingled with physical pain.

Dean looked at his gun and thought about taking the shot. If he didn't stop Sam from cutting Tommy, his brother was going to have deal with some serious angst and guilt. He slowly raised the gun, aiming at Sam's shoulder, but he couldn't shake the concern that a few inches off target and he could kill his little brother. His grip kept tightening and loosening on the weapon as he struggled with his indecision. He regretted putting the gun in his waistband and giving himself this option but it had never occurred to him that this could be the outcome, that he could be aiming the gun at his brother, seriously considering shooting him.

"I can't," Dean muttered struggling to maintain his aim.

"Dean, you need to save your son" Sam cried plaintively.

At first Dean didn't know what his brother meant, he thought it was some sort of cryptic clue about what was going on and he furrowed his brow as he tried to figure it out. But then he looked at Tommy and the plain meaning of the words made sense to him. Dean gazed at his brother with open mouthed shock. Questions flooded his brain. Was Tommy his son? Why hadn't Lisa told him? How come Sam knew? How long had Sam known? When were they going to tell him?

"He's more important than I am," Sam insisted.

Sam had made the revelation to make his brother's choice easier, but instead it made things harder for Dean. Now he was choosing between his brother and his son, it was in his hands which of them was about to suffer a painful possibly life threatening wound.

Sam's face contorted with the effort of keeping his arm still. Whatever was pulling him was winning the battle, the urge to slash across Tommy's neck was overwhelming. He was about to kill this child, his family and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

A gunshot rang out. And there followed a split second of complete silence, as if the world was stunned that Dean had pulled the trigger.

Sam jerked backward, the arm holding the knife flailing to the side, the offending weapon flying out of his hand. As soon as Tommy felt the pressure on him loosen he jumped up and raced into his mother's arms, burying his head in her chest, almost unable to draw breath so fierce was his crying. Lisa folded the little boy into her arms and held him tightly, her tears falling into his hair.

Sam grabbed at where the bullet had pierced his body, trying to relieve the burning sting which followed in the bullet's wake. He looked Dean in the eye and gave him a grateful nod, then keeled over onto his side and hit the floor unconscious.

Dean looked in disbelief at his brother lying prone on the floor. He was devastated. Numb. He couldn't believe what he had just done and the gun dropped out of his hands to the floor, suddenly very heavy in his grasp. He had to get to his brother and make sure he was okay. On shaky limbs he walked as quickly as he could over to where his brother lay but his unsteady gait made the progress interminable. His eyes never wavered from Sam, yearning to see some sign of life. He was in a cold sweat over the thought that maybe he had missed his mark and injured his brother more seriously than he had intended.

Before he had reached Sam, the younger man stirred and opened his eyes, then grimaced in pain as he clutched at his arm. Dean felt an enormous relief when his brother regained consciousness. Upon reaching Sam's side, the older brother knelt beside him and pulled back the layers of clothing the younger man was wearing to assess the damage. The bullet had pierced Sam's upper arm. Although it probably hurt like hell, it was a fairly mild injury. As far as bullet wounds went, this was probably the best that Dean could have hoped for.

The older hunter looked into his brother's teary eyes and uttered, "Christo." When Sam didn't react to the word, Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wasn't possessed. But why then had he just tried to kill Tommy? He swallowed the lump in his throat and said in a thick voice, "You're okay Sammy. Just winged you."

Dean looked for something to staunch the flow of blood coming from Sam's wound and finding nothing close to hand, took off his outer shirt and pressed it onto the injury. The younger brother gingerly sat up, and took over the job of applying pressure.

"Lisa," Dean called. She raised her head in answer to the call, showing a tear stained face with eyes that were icy and full of bitterness.

"Take Tommy to the car and then come back and put some clothes in a bag," the hunter directed. The young woman nodded slowly still in shock. She got to her feet then lifted the little boy into her arms, grabbed the nearby car keys and took Tommy outside.

"Is Tommy okay?" Sam asked guiltily.

"Yeah Sam, he's fine," Dean replied quietly and realized that he hadn't checked. He assumed Lisa would have said something if he wasn't.

"He's your son," the younger brother said with an apologetic look. In all the scenarios Sam had gone through in his head about how he was going to break the news to Dean, he had never considered he may have to blurt it out in order to get his brother to shoot him. That was a shitty way of learning he was a father.

Dean nodded but put his hand up to prevent Sam saying more about it. He didn't doubt the truth of it, if Lisa had made the revelation he would have, would have looked for an angle, but from Sam he knew it was the truth because his brother wouldn't tell him something so shattering without being certain. But he couldn't talk about it yet, he needed time to think it through. Deal with this situation first, that could wait for later.

"So what just happened?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head in bewilderment. "My body wasn't listening to my brain. I've never felt anything like it. I just had no control. And something was pulling my arm, trying to get me to slash Tommy's throat."

The older man gave his brother a prolonged gaze to see if there was anything different about him, something which may explain what just occurred. But he looked like the same old Sammy, sad tearful eyes, wounded puppy dog expression. Maybe this was some new kind of possession, something they hadn't seen before. Or maybe this is what their father had warned them about and Sam was being co-opted into doing the demon's bidding. Maybe this is what John thought his youngest needed to be saved from. Dean wished his father had given him more information about what he feared for Sam, because he was flailing around in the dark looking for answers.

"Listen Sam, we have to leave you here." Dean stated it with as little emotion as possible, he didn't want Sam misinterpreting the reasoning behind it, thinking he was angry with him or disappointed in him.

"Do you understand?" Dean prompted, giving his brother a meaningful look. He didn't want to say _I think you're dangerous_ or _I'm worried that you might attack one of us again_, but he knew it was implied He didn't blame Sam for what just happened, some force had been at play here, but until he figured it out Dean had to think of Lisa and Tommy's safety and to be safe they had to be away from Sam.

The younger brother nodded and drew in a shaky breath. _Keep it together Sam_ Dean silently pleaded, _or I won't be able to leave you._ He was thankful when his brother kept his composure.

Lisa returned and loitered near the door, looking warily at her son's attacker.

"What do you want me to take?" the young woman addressed Dean while glaring at Sam.

"Whatever you need for a few days away and get my bag in the other room."

Lisa skirted around the brothers and grabbed one of her overnight bags. She walked around the room stuffing in clothes and supplies and less than five minutes later she disappeared into the boys' room and returned with Dean's bag. "I'm ready," she announced.

Dean gave his brother a forced smile but Sam could see the desolation in his eyes. "You've got the first aid kit in your bag, you're going to need some stitches in that arm but sticking plaster should hold it together for now. Just don't use it too much, hold the remote in the other hand."

Sam nodded and tried to laugh at the joke, but it was all so awful. Trying to kill Tommy, being left behind, telling Dean he was Tommy's father like that. Being shot by his brother. What kind of lives were they leading that circumstances forced one of them to shoot the other?

Sam's face was full of emotion. He tried to wordlessly reassure his brother, let him know it was alright, that he understood, but he wasn't sure if he was successful.

Dean turned to Lisa and said "Can you help me up?" She walked reluctantly over to where Dean sat and then, without warning punched Sam in the face. She really lined him up, the blow jolted Sam's head back and split his lip.

"Hey," Dean yelled, pushing her away from Sam. "Pull yourself together."

Sam gave the young woman a sad smile. He'd just tried to kill her son. And he had revealed her closely guarded secret to Dean. He got away easy with a punch. Lucky she didn't have a gun in her hand.

"Shit Sam, you okay?" The older brother cast worried eyes over his younger brother's face.

"Yeah," the younger brother responded. "I deserved that."

"No you didn't." Dean looked at Lisa angrily. "Go and wait in the car, I'll be there in a minute."

The young woman stalked away without a backward glance.

"Pity me Sam. Pity me having to spend time alone with that woman."

"Oh you have my pity," Sam said honestly.

Sam stood up and helped his brother to his feet. They were both groaning and wincing dealing with their respective injuries. It would have been comical if it wasn't so serious. At the impala, Dean gave his brother a last pat on the shoulder then slid into the passenger seat of the car.

Neither brother said goodbye, nothing was said about when they might see each other again and Dean refused to take a last look at his forlorn brother, incase it weakened his resolve to do what had to be done. This was just temporary Dean assured himself, they'd meet up again shortly. As soon as Dean figured out what was going on he would be calling for Sam. He refused to countenance the possibility that perhaps this is who Sam was now, an unpredictable loose cannon. It never crossed his mind that their easygoing relationship may be at an end.

But Sam was thinking dark thoughts. As his brother left, he wondered if he could ever be trusted around people again. All the worries and doubts that Sam had harbored about his psychic abilities and his connection to the yellow eyed demon, crowded in on him and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was no longer in control of his body and mind.


	16. Chapter 16

There was initially a lot of Dean soul searching in this chapter, but as much as I love to write it, I'm not sure that you want to read it. So I've pared it back to some minor musing.

* * *

Chapter 16 

The impala pulled out of the motel carpark with Lisa at the wheel and Dean slumped in the passenger seat.

"Just drive," the injured man instructed with a deep rooted tiredness. "We've got to find another motel."

Dean rubbed his eyes and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had shot Sam. Sam had tried to kill Tommy. Tommy was his son. Each of those statements on their own was shattering, but all three together was too much to comprehend. Thoughts were whirling around his head fighting for predominance and he didn't know where to start.

In the back seat Tommy was inconsolable. He was sobbing and pleaded with his mother, "Mommy, I want you. I want to hop out." The plea became more and more insistent as Lisa tried to calm him from the front seat. Her soothing words weren't enough for him and he refused to be placated from afar. Tommy's need for some comfort and reassurance after his recent ordeal affected Dean deeply. How do you explain to a three year old why his uncle had just held a knife to his throat? It was his first experience with the supernatural. _Welcome to the family kid_ Dean thought ruefully.

"Pull over," Dean ordered.

When the car was stationary at the kerb, the hunter climbed out of the passenger seat and relocated to the back. He undid Tommy's seatbelt and said, "Why don't you come and sit on my lap. I'll look after you and we'll let Mommy drive in peace."

"I want Mommy," the little boy sniffed.

"I know you do buddy, but Mommy has to drive." Dean held his hand out to Tommy. "Come on, climb over here and when Mommy's done driving she'll give you a big hug."

The child looked at him warily, sizing him up, trying to decide whether he could be trusted. _He's afraid of me because I just shot Sam_ Dean thought.

"Let Dean look after you sweetheart," Lisa chimed in.

At Dean getting the seal of approval from his mother Tommy crawled over the seat and onto the man's lap. Dean pulled the seatbelt around them both and Tommy rested his head on the broad chest. Lisa gave Dean a grateful nod then started the car and continued on their way.

Tommy was still crying, but the sobbing had eased and now the tears were silently trickling down his face. Dean wiped his eyes and stroked the young boy's hair. It brought back vague memories of his mother stroking his hair in the same way when he was about Tommy's age.

"You're okay buddy. That was a bit scary but its all over now."

Dean had hoped that having the little boy on his lap would cause some paternal feelings to burst out of him, that Tommy being his son would somehow feel right, but he knew that was ambitious and he wasn't really surprised to find that having this child on his lap felt strange to him. He'd only met this kid yesterday, and he was a nice kid, but Dean didn't feel any sort of emotional attachment to him, he felt removed, like he was playing a part, trying to be something he wasn't. Maybe the bond would come with time. Dean really hoped so, he wanted to have a special relationship with his child and he prayed that the opportunity hadn't been missed.

Tommy was peering blankly out the window watching the scenery go by, and Dean pitied him for having his naivety interrupted so violently. He was going to grow up cursing the Winchester blood in his veins because their family was like a magnet for trouble. Poor kid, he drew the short straw being Dean's son.

They drove in silence until Dean saw a motel that looked suitable to their needs and directed Lisa to pull in. After securing a room for a couple of nights, they parked in the nominated spot outside their door. Lisa left Dean and Tommy in the car while she took the bags inside then came back to collect her son. As she took Tommy out of Dean's arms, the hunter regarded her coldly.

During the course of the drive, Dean had reached the conclusion that Lisa had never intended to tell him that he was Tommy's father. There had been opportunities for her to say something, it had even come up in conversation and she had kept her mouth shut. He was pissed off about it. Dean didn't know what justification Lisa thought she had for keeping his paternity a secret and frankly, he didn't give a shit, a man was entitled to know if he had a child, end of story.

Lisa saw the look in Dean's eye, she understood its meaning and she held his gaze defiantly before taking Tommy inside.

Dean got out of the car, and using it for support, walked as close to the motel door as he could. But there was a gap between the end of the impala and the door and once again he was stumped by an area that offered him nothing to hold onto. He really needed to get a walking stick or something because this was getting ridiculous.

His hands fisted at his sides and he brought them down hard on the bonnet of the car. Life really sucked at the moment. He didn't have Sammy with him, he couldn't move from A to B without someone holding his hand, his son was a stranger and his son's mother was a bitch. Never had he felt more of a desire to get rotten drunk, reality was so much easier to handle from the bottom of a bottle. But he couldn't afford to write himself off yet, not when the demon was still out there and decisions had to be made.

The hunter leaned on the bonnet of the car and wondered whether he could spend the night in the Impala. He really didn't want to call Lisa for help, he didn't want anything to do with her right now. After a moment of deliberation, he called for Tommy instead. The little boy reluctantly came to the door. "I need your help buddy. Just come over here and let me hold onto you so I can get to the door." Tommy looked uncertainly inside, presumably at his mother, then did as Dean asked and came over to the injured man, letting him grip onto his shoulders as they walked to the door.

Even though Dean had only known Tommy a day, he could recognise that the child had lost his bubbly enthusiasm and chattiness. The little boy completed his task sombrely and when Dean let go of his shoulders raced back to his mother's arms. Dean wondered if Tommy would bounce back from this trauma. He'd heard that kids were resilient, hopefully with time he would get over it and find his personality again. But something like this changed a person, changed who they would have been. And if Dean couldn't save Lisa, he knew from personal experience that was a blow Tommy would never recover from.

Using the wall for support, Dean made his way toward a door at the far end of the suite which he assumed housed the bedroom. All he could think about was shutting himself away so that he could come to terms with all the shit that was happening, it had been one thing after another and he felt brittle enough to break.

When Dean was about half way to his destination Lisa asked begrudgingly from her position on the sofa, "Do you want some help?"

"Bite me," he replied without looking at her. A short bitter laugh escaped her. Yeah he knew it was childish, but he wasn't feeling understanding or conciliatory. If she knew what was good for her, she'd leave him alone and let him sort things out. He didn't particularly want to have a war of words right now, but if she started something he was going to let loose. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut and let him continue on his way.

When he finally made it to the bedroom, he threw himself onto the bed, closed his eyes and let all his thoughts and feelings wash over him. This was his opportunity to think about everything that had happened in the last week and try to find some answers.

The first thing that came to him were thoughts of Sam. He was feeling pretty freaking bad about shooting his brother and then leaving him. He couldn't help thinking that he'd failed his little brother. Something was going on with Sam, he wasn't the psychotic type, Dean should have figured it out and protected him from it. _Keep him safe_ Dad had said. Nice job he'd done of that, excellent big brother work.

Although Dean knew that Sam was physically alright, that his gun shot wound was minor, he had no doubt that his younger brother was tearing himself up right now with guilt and recriminations over what happened with Tommy. With Dean's son. Shit that was weird- being an instant father. And finding out Tommy was his son like that. _Dean, Tommy is your son. Bang!_ Made it very hard to process the information when the circumstances of being told were so dramatic.

A father! Christ. Although he liked the idea in theory, he held grave concerns about his ability to be a good parent. There was a chasm between the father he would like to be and the father he would likely be. Sure he wanted to give his son stability, emotional support, he wanted to right the wrongs that his dad had made. But living the life of a hunter meant he was going to be absent a lot. If he really wanted to be a good father, he knew he would have to give up the hunting lifestyle. And that wasn't going to happen. Even though he was tired and jaded, this was what he did and settling down just wasn't in his make-up. Not even for his son. That was his first failing as a father right there.

But Dean didn't want to think too deeply about Tommy yet. Their lives were in danger and he needed to put his time and energy into figuring out how to solve the predicament they were in, Tommy could wait. When everyone was safe, and the demon was gone, then Dean would have the luxury of figuring out what kind of father he wanted to be.

The hunter moved his thoughts onto the task of piecing together the big picture. If he was Tommy's father then that kind of made sense out of Lisa being a target for the demon. History was repeating itself. Just as his mother had been killed so now was his son's mother to be killed. Why, didn't really matter. Could be that Tommy had some special power that the demon was trying to protect or maybe it was a personal vendetta against the Winchesters. Whatever the reason, his son was looking down the barrel of a very familiar future and Dean wanted to avoid that for Tommy at all costs.

Dean was certain now that he _had_ seen a demon at the park today. _You'd enjoy having a son _the woman sitting next to him had said. She had known Tommy was his son. She had known when he hadn't, so the taunt had meant nothing to him at the time. But he couldn't figure out why the demon would get that close and not go in for the kill. And when he had suspected that the woman sitting next to him was a demon, her reaction had been to scurry away, what was with that? Not that he was complaining, a shoot-out in the park wouldn't have been ideal, but it was mystifying.

And what the hell was with Sam trying to kill Tommy? They get back from the park, everything is fine for a couple of hours and then his brother goes nuts. But it was nuts against his will, Dean was sure Sam really had been fighting hard not to kill Tommy. And he hadn't been possessed. So what did that leave?

Suddenly a thought occurred to Dean. Something that could explain what had happened today. It didn't make complete sense to him, but then when did this supernatural stuff make complete sense. Those demon bastards ran with their own set of rules and every time he thought he understood them, there would be some new twist he hadn't foreseen.

He sat up on the bed as a plan was forming in his head, something that could end this demon situation tonight. As he mulled over whether his idea might work, he decided that there was nothing to lose in trying. It was dangerous, it was reckless and it just might be crazy enough to work. He was worried about Tommy, he wanted to protect him as much as possible from experiencing any more trauma, and he factored in a way that the little boy would avoid being involved in what was about to go down. But plans were fluid, and Dean could only hope that it would all unfold as he anticipated. The hunter pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed. After a conversation held in muted tones he hung up with a satisfied expression.

Dean climbed off the bed and using the wall for support made his way toward the living area. Tiredness was setting in again. S_o much walking_ he thought. He'd only left the hospital yesterday and he'd walked miles since. When this was over he was going to find a hot Swedish masseuse to work some magic on his aching body. A sigh escaped him at the thought of it. In the meantime, he had to suck it up and push through the exhaustion.

The injured man entered the living area and sunk into an armchair. Lisa eyes narrowed at him, not sure if things were about to get nasty.

"Look I'm sorry about before," Dean opened, in a conciliatory tone. "It's been a tough day."

Lisa's tensed body relaxed. "Yeah. I guess it has been."

"I know we have to talk about Tommy," Dean looked at the child sitting on the sofa next to his mother engrossed in a children's programme on tv, "and we will, but first, I think I've come up with a way that we can get rid of the demon tonight."

The young woman's eyebrows shot up. "Really? How?"

"There's a summoning ritual in my father's journal, we can summon the demon that's after you then trap it."

"That's- an interesting plan," Lisa said slowly. "Will it work?"

Dean brought his hand up to his neck, giving away his uncertainty. "It might. The plan has a couple of flaws, like I'm not exactly sure which demon is after you, but its worth a try."

Lisa regarded the hunter grimly. "What will I have to do?"

"Well, nothing for the ritual, but the journal is back at the other motel. We're going to have to go and get it."

"Oh," the young woman's face fell and she looked toward Tommy. "I don't know. We just got away from there."

"I know we did and I know why you're worried, but I'll call Sam and tell him to get out of the room for a while. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He'll leave," Dean advised with certainty.

The young woman weighed up what Dean was asking of her and said, "Maybe we should do it tomorrow. Tommy's settled now and I think it may upset him going back to the other motel."

"We've got to do this tonight," Dean insisted. "The demon is out there looking for you and we have to strike first or we may lose the advantage."

After a moments hesitation Lisa said with resignation, "Okay."

Not two hours after they had fled the motel, the impala rumbled to a stop outside their former room. Dean had called his brother on the way and told him to get out of the room for a while. There was no code, no hidden message, Dean really wanted his brother away while they were there.

The injured man opened the passenger door and shifted his weight out of the car. When Lisa didn't move he turned back to her and said, "You're going to have to help me in."

Reluctantly Lisa got out of the car. "What about Tommy?" she asked.

"He'll be alright in the car for a few minutes," the hunter replied. Lisa came around the front to Dean and he took hold of her arm as they made their way toward the door.

"What are you going to do if Sam's inside?" she whispered.

"He won't be."

"Have you got your gun?" Lisa persisted.

"I'm not shooting my brother again," Dean retorted.

Lisa stopped still. "I'm not going inside if you're not armed."

The hunter huffed impatiently and lifted his shirt slightly to show her the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. "Are we good?"

She replied by continuing the progress to the room. Dean's heart beat faster as Lisa put the key in the door. He hoped Sam had done as he asked and left. It was hard to tell with his little brother when he was going to follow instructions and when he was going to have an attack of loyalty and insist on being nearby.

The door opened and revealed an empty suite. Dean sighed with relief and the two continued their journey into the room. The journal was sitting on the breakfast table.

Dean's steps were becoming laboured and when he stumbled he said to Lisa, "Can we go to the bed I need to sit down for a second."

Lisa's lips pursed unhappily but she didn't object to the request. Their direction changed and they headed for the bed. When they were beside it, Dean let go of Lisa and made as if to sit down, but at the last minute he turned and pushed her onto the mattress. She fell with a surprised cry but reached out and grabbed Dean's shirt on the way down, pulling him on top of her. He gasped as he landed on the bed with a jolt and needles of pain travelled up and down his spine, but he quickly rolled away from Lisa, his only thought being to get off the bed.

Lisa cursed the hunter under her breath and moved to get up, then her hand shot out and grasped Dean's shirt once again, halting his determined effort to reach the floor and pulling him back toward the centre of the bed. The injured man's heart sank.

"What did you do?" the young woman spat at him furiously.

Dean forced a cocky grin, "Christo." Lisa shuddered and her eyes filmed black before returning to their normal colour. "Devil's Trap. Under the bed. You're trapped sister."

The jig was up, but a smile crossed Lisa's face as she pointed out, "You're in here with me brother." She leaned closer to whisper, "And I can still do terrible things to you."

Dean gulped. He knew exactly what she was talking about.


	17. Chapter 17

I'm feeling bad that the twist about the demon being in Lisa seems to have been quite unexpected. I thought I would post this chapter quickly to offer some explanation, hope it makes things a bit clearer.

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Chapter 17 

Lisa and Dean regarded each other like caged tigers. This hadn't panned out quite as Dean had hoped. The idea had been to get Lisa on the bed and into the trap, then he would exorcise the demon. But his injured back made him too slow, and now she had a good grip on his shirt, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Well this is cosy," Dean commented with a raise of the eyebrows and a wry grin. "You've been in Lisa since the park haven't you?"

The demon regarded the hunter with thin lipped annoyance and ignored his question. From the look on her face Dean guessed she was trying to decide whether to rip him to shreds or try and sweet talk her way out of the trap. He fervently hoped she opted for the sweet talking.

"A trap under the bed, you guys are so predictable." Lisa sounded disappointed in herself for not seeing it coming.

"We like to go with what we know," the hunter replied. "You got to agree though that under the bed was pretty cool. I'll bet Sammy nearly killed himself making it."

By the look on the demon's face, she didn't find it _that_ cool. "Under the bed is mildly original," Lisa conceded. "Pretty stupid getting caught in the trap with me though."

"Well that wasn't part of the plan," Dean conceded. "If you'd just let go of my shirt we can rectify that."

Lisa smiled. "No, I think I'd prefer that we stay close."

They glared at each other silently, both trying to figure out how they were going to get off the bed.

"You _were_ at the park this morning, weren't you?" While they were stuck here together, Dean figured he might as well learn as much as he could about the demon and its plans.

"I don't know, was I?"

"Yeah you were," Dean replied with certainty. "You were in that woman who sat next to me on the bench, I knew she wasn't quite right. That woman went over to Lisa before we left, that's when you made the switch."

She answered by giving a slight smile. "I've got to tell you, I was surprised to find out that you didn't know you were Tommy's father yet. How long has Lisa been staying with you? Over a week? That's pretty insulting that you were the last to know."

Dean ignored the barb and continued, "Why didn't you kill Lisa at the park, why get inside her and put on the caring mother act?"

The young woman hesitated before answering and gave Dean a thoughtful look, not sure if she wanted to reveal all. But then she gave a short laugh, finding the day's events amusing and explained, "Because I saw an opportunity for fun. And it was so worth it. I have had one of the best days of my – afterlife. I got to hit Sammy's pretty little face twice, I got to look through your father's journal," she leaned in closer to whisper, "and you may want to check all the pages are still there," she shifted back to her original position satisfied by the look of horror on Dean's face. "I got to see you find out you were a father in pretty dramatic circumstances. Sammy was going to tell you about being Tommy's father tonight, but he was going to make it some dull affair. I knew under the right circumstances he'd blurt it out. And I got to see you shoot your brother." Lisa clapped her hands in delight. "_That_ was the highlight of my day."

Dean was finding it increasingly difficult to hold his tongue against the taunting. "How did you do that?" the hunter asked in a low growl. "How did you make Sam hold a knife to Tommy's throat?"

"You like that? Little trick I learnt. It only works on your brother and the others like him. His mind is wide open to suggestion, I can make him do whatever I want."

"Were you going to make him kill Tommy?"

"Sure, why not? Although killing Tommy was never my priority. It became much more interesting seeing whether you would shoot your brother. That was great when you did. Thanks for that."

"So what was your priority? I mean seriously, what was this all about?" Although Dean suspected he knew what was motivating the demon, he wanted to hear it from her.

"Oh Dean, do I have to join the dots?" She surveyed him with condescension and when he didn't answer she sighed and said, "What was the defining moment of your life? When your mother was killed wasn't it? Totally screwed you up didn't it? The chance to do to your son what was done to you was an opportunity no self respecting demon could pass up. Passing on the Winchester curse to the next generation is priceless."

"But at the diner I didn't know he was my son," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah but I did. And that was good enough."

"How could you know he was my son when I didn't?"

Lisa leaned in and said menacingly, "Because we're very good at what we do."

Dean shuddered at the thought of the resources they must have at their disposal. Evil was everywhere. And it made him wonder how he could ever make a dent in that force. He and Sam may win the battle against ghosts, spirits and weird-ass monsters, but they were never going to get the upper hand against demons, they were too pervasive, too cunning.

_Just deal with this demon,_ he told himself, _one thing at a time._

"How did you get through the salt lines here at the motel?" Dean asked with interest.

"How good are your salt lines?" she countered. "You shuffle your feet through them, or a little boy runs his trains through them and all of a sudden you've got no protection, just a big mess on the floor."

The hunter was silent, out of questions. All that remained was the here and now, getting himself out of the trap and exorcising this demon.

"But you know, I'm not greedy," the demon continued. "I've had my fun. You let me go and I'll let you go, no harm no foul."

Dean was incensed by the suggestion. This demon had been toying with them all day, had plans to devastate his son, and yet was serious in its suggestion that they call it quits.

"Yeah right. You tell me about plans to bring some demonic shit down on my son and then expect me to let you go. I don't think so."

"Look at where you are Dean. If you don't let me go I _will_ kill you. And then I'll just grab the gun in your jeans and shoot Lisa as well. If you don't act smart, your kid's going to be an orphan." She paused for moment to let that sink in. "How about I offer you this. You let me go, and I'll make a deal to take Lisa but leave you and the kid alone. She's a pain in everyone's ass anyway, no great loss. And you get your son all to yourself. You get to right the wrongs that John made, give Tommy the life you yearned for."

He had to hand it to this demon, she knew how to pick a weak spot. Give his son the childhood he'd never had? That was a bullseye. As much as he had adored his father, accepted the decisions he'd made, understood that behind every decision was genuine affection and a desire to do the right thing by his children, Dean wasn't blind to his father's mistakes, there were a lot of things he would do differently with his own child if he had the chance.

"How do I know you'd abide by such a deal?" Dean asked quietly, hating himself for even asking the question.

The demon smiled. "A demon's word is its bond. We may be evil, but we do have honour."

It was tempting, the offer of a free pass for him and Tommy. His son could lose one parent tonight, or he could lose both, Dean wasn't in a very good bargaining position. But the idea of letting the demon go was so galling. And he knew that just because this demon didn't chase them down, didn't mean some other demon wouldn't take up the mantle.

If he said no to the offer though, he was dead and who was going to exorcise the demon? If it was able to control Sam from within the trap then his brother probably wouldn't be able to finish the ritual. Whatever answer he gave to the offer, Dean suspected the demon was going to find a way out of this trap. The question was would Dean be alive or dead when it did?

"You make an interesting offer," Dean said looking to buy some time, "I'm going to need a few minutes to think about it."

"Would you like me to tempt you further?" With a flick of Lisa's hand Dean received a smack across the cheek that brought tears to his eyes.

"No, that's fine," Dean gasped. "You've tempted me enough."

The hunter still had one trick up his sleeve but the probability of it working was so low he had to make sure the timing was just right. As he tensed, about to make his last ditch, do or die effort, a key was heard scraping the lock. Sam was back. The demon beamed and that joyful response made Dean go, "Uh-oh."

Sam walked into the room, then stopped short when he saw both Dean and Lisa on the bed, a look of confusion on his face.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

He had drawn the trap under the bed after receiving Dean's hushed phone call, but there had been no explanation from Dean about why or who he was intending to trap. Seeing the two of them on the bed, Sam thought he had interrupted some romantic interlude, it didn't occur to him that either of them could be possessed. But when he saw the serious expression on his brother's face, and the smug grin on Lisa's he realized that the young woman must be the one Dean had intended to trap. Why then was Dean on the bed? And why was Lisa looking so happy to see him?

The older brother was nervous about Sam being in the room. If the demon could control him, Sam was just going to make a bad situation worse. "Wait outside Sam. Go check on Tommy in the car," Dean suggested tersely.

"No, no, that would be rude. Come and join us Sam," Lisa insisted with a welcoming grin. Sam closed the door behind him and walked over to the foot of the bed.

"Tommy's fine," Sam stated. "I just checked on him, he's asleep."

Dean felt an enormous relief that the child hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes screaming for attention. As much as he didn't like the idea of Tommy being left unattended in the car, the boy was safer physically and mentally out there than in here. Dean's guilt at leaving Tommy outside was alleviated by the thought that the little boy was sleeping through the final showdown.

Sam walked around the bed to his brother and Dean thought he was going to give him a hand getting up, but instead he roughly pushed Dean's head down and reached for the gun tucked into his waistband. With the gun in his hand he returned to the end of the bed and aimed it at Lisa.

"Sam!" the older brother called, wanting to be sure he had Sam's attention before he continued slowly and deliberately, "You need to close your freak door."

The younger brother looked non-plussed. "Am I supposed to understand that, because now is not the time to be talking in riddles."

"You know your…." Dean's hands waved in circles as he struggled to explain what he meant. "You're letting the demon into your head. Wherever your psychic stuff comes from, it's a way for the demon to control you. You need to close that door."

"How?"

"I don't know," the older brother cried in exasperation. "Just find a way."

The gun's aim shifted from Lisa to Dean. "This conversation is boring me," Lisa intoned and Sam's hand started to shake with the effort of not pulling the trigger.

"Close your eyes and forget about the gun," Dean implored his brother, "just shut the door, that's what's important."

Sam closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths as he tried to regain control of his mind, but moments later his eyes opened in wild panic and he looked helplessly at the gun then at this brother as his finger pulled the trigger.

Snap! The gun clicked over impotently without any bullets in the chamber. The one thing Dean had learned from the experience earlier today, was that he didn't want to shoot either Lisa or Sam. He didn't mind being in a position to threaten them, but he didn't want to be able to carry through, the guilt wasn't worth it. It had been tough coming into this situation unarmed, he had thought long and hard about it, but now he realized he had made the right decision, he'd just dodged a bullet.

Sam's shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile crossed his face. But the smile left him when he walked over to Dean and hit him in the temple with the gun. Dean's head exploded into light and sound as he crashed backward on the bed and lay sprawled face up. He focussed on the ceiling to try and still the spinning, breathing in heavy gasps.

"Close the freaking door," the older brother groaned.

"I don't know how," Sam replied in frustration.

Dean rolled onto his side and pushed himself back into a sitting position, holding onto his head which felt heavy enough to fall off his shoulders. "Get the journal Sam," he gasped, hoping like hell his brother could do something useful. He was pleasantly surprised when Sam went to the breakfast table and picked up the journal. Then he was suspicious. He looked at Lisa, but she had her head down, she wasn't giving anything away.

"Start reading," Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rifled through the journal, then frowned. He turned pages forward and backward, becoming more and more frantic as he looked for the page with the latin exorcism rite. "Dean we've got a problem."

"I'm in a trap with a demon, yeah its pretty obvious Sam."

"No. I can't find the exorcism rite in Dad's journal. I think the page has been torn out."

Dean looked at Lisa in a fury and a smug smile crossed her face. "Oops, how could that happen?" she asked with mock concern.

The hunter launched himself at her, his anger overriding his caution. That journal was their father's most important possession, defiling it was a personal insult, akin to a slap in the face. He placed his forearm roughly against the woman's chest while he started rifling through her pockets. "Where is it?" he demanded, roughly searching her clothing. He drew back with a cry when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Looking down he saw a deep gash across his ribs and blood starting to flow.

"Remember where you are," the demon threatened. "You're only alive because I don't want you dead yet."

"You bitch," Dean growled, holding his chest to relieve the sting. "Where is it?"

"I ate it," she returned with an infuriating grin.

Dean didn't believe her, he guessed the missing page was in one of her pockets. But he couldn't see any way to force it out of her. When this was over Dean had to remember to tell Lisa to empty her pockets. Sam hovered around the edge of the bed, not sure if he wanted to hop into the circle and help his brother or stay on the outside.

"Stay there," Dean commanded to his brother, as if he could read his thoughts. "You're going to have recite the chant from memory." Dean was thankful that even though the demon could control Sam's actions, it didn't have control of his speech, so he could still perform the exorcism.

"What?" Sam was aghast. "I can't remember the whole thing."

"You're going to have to Sam," Dean snapped. "I'll help you, any part you don't remember hopefully I will." _If I'm still alive_ Dean thought.

Sam blanched at the prospect. That was a big ask. Sure he'd read through the words a number of times, but he hadn't committed them to memory. And he was very worried about what was going to happen to Dean when he started the ritual. The demon was toying with them at the moment, it was trapped but it wasn't helpless, as soon as it felt truly threatened Dean was in for a world of pain.

"Don't do it Sam," Lisa warned, "he'll be dead before you finish."

Sam turned abruptly and went into the adjoining room.

"Er Sam?" Dean called, not sure what had prompted the abrupt departure. "Are we boring you?"

Sam returned to the room and resumed his position at the foot of his bed. From behind his back he produced a gun and this time Dean had no doubt it was loaded.

"Ah crap Sam," the older brother sighed. "Is that door still open?" Sam gave him a helpless shrug.

There was a flask of holy water hidden in Dean's inside jacket pocket. He hadn't tried to reach for it yet because he was so close to the demon, he knew that as soon as he made a move Lisa would grab his hand. It was his last ditch effort, what he was about to try when Sam showed up, douse Lisa in holy water and get off the bed. Once again the situation was desperate enough that he had to give it a go.

The injured man had one arm across his chest, held against the gash the demon had inflicted. With a groan he brought his second arm across and over the other as if he was in terrible pain (which he was) and he doubled over at the waist so that his head almost touch the mattress. With his body hidden from view, he slowly slipped his arm under his jacket and felt around for the hidden flask.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked with concern.

The injured man flashed his brother a withering look. "Sam, I have a broken back and a slash across my chest. I've been better."

The gun in Sam's hand was shaking and Dean knew he only had moments before his brother involuntarily pulled the trigger. In the quickest of movements Dean pulled the flask out of his pocket, flicked off the lid and splashed it over Lisa. She screamed in pain as her hands tore at the burns on her body. The demon momentarily lost its mental hold on Sam, and the young man took advantage of the respite by throwing the gun to Dean and taking a flying leap at his brother, using his body weight to knock him off the bed and out of the demon's grasp.

The brothers sprawled in a tangle on the floor, each of them suffering as the sudden movement aggravated their respective injuries. Sam pressed his right hand to his wounded left arm, hoping the pressure would ease the throbbing and looked to see how his brother was faring. Dean was on his side, eyes closed, face contorted in pain, agonised breaths emitting from him as his arms hugged his chest tightly.

"Hey?" Sam checked to see if his brother was still conscious.

Dean opened his eyes and gave his brother a tight nod, the best reassurance he could offer while he was still struggling to find his breath.

"Let me see," the younger brother directed as he brought Dean's arms away from the gash on his chest. He made a face at what he saw, it was a deep wound, maybe down to the bone, but the blood wasn't gushing out so there weren't any arteries cut. "Jeez it looks bad," Sam pronounced, "but I've seen worse."

"Yeah on me," Dean moaned.

The older hunter's fingers and toes were starting to tingle and the ache radiating up his spine made him suspect that he had just re-injured his back. His body was urging him to stay lying down, close his eyes, take it easy. With great effort he ignored that internal advice and forced himself up off the floor, just as Sam's fist connected with his cheek and lay him out again. He grunted at the pain and brought a hand to his face as he fought against the rushing in his head that threatened to overwhelm him, drag him under.

"Just give me a minute," Dean gasped, hoping his brother could maintain control of himself long enough for Dean to recover from that blow. He took the hand away from his face and saw Sam straining with the effort of trying to hold back the next punch that the demon was demanding he deliver.

The older hunter shakily pushed himself into a sitting position and then focused all the energy in his body to his fist, as he delivered a crunching blow to his younger brother's chin that had him wincing in sympathy. Sam crumpled to the floor unconscious and Dean hoped he hadn't just broken his brother's jaw.

Dean patted his brother's leg, "Sorry Sammy, but that's way better than shooting you."

The hunter leaned heavily against the bed adjacent to the one the demon was trapped on. He was so done, he could barely move. Dean wondered if he could take a quick nap and finish the exorcism later. No, no of course he couldn't, he had to finish this before Sam woke up. _Get this over with and you can sleep for a week_, he told himself.

Now he was the one who was going to have to recite the exorcism rite from memory. That was dodgy. Sam was better at the latin stuff than he was. There was a book in the car that had the rite in it, but as he looked toward the door, he knew that there was no way he was getting there and back.

Lisa was lazing on the bed watching Dean quite unperturbed. When she noticed the hunter returning her gaze she held up her watch and said, "Tick tock."

"You in a hurry back to hell?" he asked.

"I think we both know I'm not going back to hell tonight, and I'm getting bored on the bed," she replied. "Why don't you admit defeat, take the deal and drive into the sunset with your son. When Sammy wakes up and lets me out of this trap I'm not going to feel so generous."

Dean smiled at her gumption. Stuck in a trap and she still thought she had the upper hand. He searched his memory for the opening words of the rite and recited some latin haltingly, not sure if it was correct.

The demon laughed. "That is truly awful. You're kidding me with that aren't you?"

"Shut up," the hunter snapped. Even when the latin was written in front of him he had trouble with it, he had no chance of getting it right from memory. He really needed Sam's help.

"Give it up Dean. Seriously. Everyone will admit that you put on a brave effort, did all you could, no shame, blah blah. But you lost this round. You win some you lose some. Take the deal. You need to salvage what you can." There was an intensity to Lisa's eyes, a barely concealed triumph. She had him and it was delicious, she was savouring it. Dean was a spent force and Sam was going to come around any minute to do her bidding.

As Dean depressingly pondered his options, his back killing him, his chest killing him, his head killing him, facing the very real possibility of passing out any minute, there popped into his mind a way to finish this and a grin quirked at the edge of his mouth.

"You are one cocky bitch, I'll give you that," he said, "but I haven't heard any fat ladies singing yet," and he took his phone out of his pocket.


	18. Chapter 18

Another long chapter, I should have split it into two but, meh, didn't wanna. This is the second last chapter, the next chapter it all ends.

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Chapter 18 

Dean fingers punched randomly over his cell phone keys and he cursed under his breath at his lack of coordination. He was propped up against the bed with Lisa watching him in amusement from the nearby trap. His fingers were tingling and numb, his vision was blurred, and finding the phone number he wanted was not as easy as it would usually be.

"Why don't you give me the phone and I'll dial for you," the demon offered with a broad grin.

"Bite me," Dean spat at her. He was about to throw the phone across the room in frustration so he closed his eyes, took some deep breaths and resumed the task with forced patience. Finally he found the number he was looking for and pressed the call button. He put the phone to his ear and hoped like hell what he had planned was going to work.

"Dean?" At the other end of the phone Bobby recognised the incoming phone number and was surprised to be receiving a call from the young hunter. Very rarely did Dean call to shoot the breeze, so he figured there had to be trouble. "What's going on?"

"Bobby, are you at home?" Dean asked anxiously.

"Yeah," the older hunter replied slowly. He could hear the slight slur to Dean's words, that his breathing was a bit fast. "Are you alright?"

Dean exhaled a laugh. "Man, I can't even begin to tell you how far from alright I am. But listen I don't have much time, can you get your latin exorcism rite."

"You want me to send it to you?" Bobby asked in confusion. He knew the boys already had the rite so he couldn't understand why Dean would ask him for it.

"No I need you to get it right now."

"Okay," the older hunter replied and Dean could hear him walking through the house. "Is Sam with you?" Bobby asked while he was on his way to retrieve the book.

"Yeah," Dean said simply without going into explanations about his brother being a demon's lap dog and currently unconscious on the floor beside him.

But Dean's answer made Bobby even more perplexed about the phone call. "Can I talk to Sam?"

"No Bobby, you can't, can you cut the chit-chat and just get the rite," the young hunter retorted tersely.

"Okay, I'm looking for it," and through the phone Dean could hear his friend rifling through pages. As the seconds ticked over Dean became increasingly tense about his plan falling apart, the different ways in which it could all turn to shit ran through his head; his phone could run out of battery, Sam could wake up, he could pass out. That last one was a very real possibility, there was a tiredness tugging at him that was becoming difficult to deny, a heaviness beyond pain that was going to swallow him very soon.

_Hurry up!_ he silently screamed down the phone.

"Okay, got it," Bobby stated.

"I need you to read it to me, but read it slow so that I can recite it after you," Dean instructed.

Bobby let out a breath that Dean knew signified _what the hell? _But the older man didn't question the instruction, he just started reading, stopping after the fourth or fifth word to listen to Dean repeat the words back to him.

On the bed Lisa was looking at the injured man with malevolence, clearing ruing not killing Dean when she had the chance. About half way through the chant Sam started to stir and Dean's focus on his brother made him lose concentration. He didn't want to hit Sam again, actually he didn't know if he was capable, he was having trouble enough keeping the phone raised to his ear, another knock out punch seemed pretty unlikely, and the words _just stay down Sam _kept running through his head, he really didn't want to have his strength tested. He stopped repeating Bobby's words as he watched to see what his brother would do and the older hunter yelled Dean's name down the phone until it registered.

"Huh?" Dean asked mildly, disoriented, starting to lose the thread, starting to lose his grip on what was going on.

"Repeat this," Bobby instructed and gave his young friend the next few words of the chant, which Dean duly repeated. The young hunter's responses were becoming slower, the slurring was becoming more pronounced. Bobby reduced the words to be repeated down to one or two, to compensate for Dean's sliding concentration, then started saying the words _with_ Dean to try and keep him focussed, but after a few more bouts of repetition Bobby recited some words and received silence in response. He called Dean's name as loudly as he could, hoping that the young man had just phased out for a moment, that some sharp words could snap him back to attention, but when the silence became prolonged he knew. Dean was unconscious.

Bobby paced the floor of his house, feeling frustratingly helpless. He didn't know where the boys were, he didn't know what was going on, although the fact that Dean wanted the exorcism rite was an indication that they were dealing with a demon. Dean had called Bobby's cell phone, so the hunter went to his landline and dialed Sam's number. He had both phones up to his ear, hoping to hear Dean's voice and hoping to hear Sam answer. Sam's phone went to voicemail and Bobby cursed loudly. He called Dean's name a few more times but he figured his young friend's phone had probably fallen to the floor.

Bobby heard the sound of someone groaning coming through Dean's phone. He didn't know who it was but he dialed Sam's number again. Voicemail. He gave it a third try and this time he got a very groggy _hello_ in response.

"Sam, thank Christ. What is going on with you boys?"

At the motel Sam was still on the floor with his eyes closed. The persistent ring of his phone had forced him to fumble around in his pocket to answer it before he was really aware of his surroundings.

"Bobby? I don't know man." Sam opened his eyes and took the phone away from his ear so he could use both hands to push himself off the floor. Once in a very wobbly sitting position he looked around and saw his brother propped up against the bed, his eyes closed, his chin resting on his chest and the front of his shirt a wet mess of red. That brought Sam around pretty fast.

"Oh shit," he muttered and reached over to feel the pulse at his brother's neck. Dean's heart was racing and he was too cold and clammy, Sam knew he needed to get his brother some medical attention soon.

Gently Sam repositioned his brother, laying him flat on the ground to try and stem the flow of blood. There was no response from Dean to Sam's touch or to being moved, not a flutter or a groan, and the younger man's stomach twisted at just how out of it Dean was. Fear for his brother's health raised another notch.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair then remembered the phone in his hand. "Shit Bobby, Dean's not looking too good."

"Okay son," Bobby could hear the panic in Sam's voice, "I'll call an ambulance, just give me your address."

"No you can't, we're exorcising a demon here." With that Sam looked at the bed and Lisa waved at him with a lazy flick of her hand.

"Yeah I know you are, Dean nearly got through the rite, there's only a few more lines to say."

"Read them to me," Sam insisted as he unintentionally stretched out his arm to grab the loaded gun that was by Dean's side. Bobby continued the rite where Dean had left off, reciting a few words then waiting for the repetition from Sam. He was unaware of Sam raising the gun in his hand and shakily pressing it to his brother's temple. The older man could hear Sam's breathing getting faster, but he didn't ask about it, he didn't want to get distracted from the task, he just wanted to finish reading the exorcism rite so Dean could get some help.

Sam was straining not to fire the gun at his brother's head. After repeating some of the words recited by Bobby, he couldn't continue. His lips were compressed, his teeth were gritted and if he didn't focus all his attention on the gun in his hand, then Dean was going to die. Tears welled in the young hunter's eyes at the horror of what he was about to do, he strained within himself to try and avoid it, to drop the gun or at least angle it away from Dean's head.

As his finger trembled on the trigger, the muscles desperately trying to contract, he whispered helplessly, "I'm sorry Dean," and it sounded so inadequate, so outrageously unsatisfactory, that it caused a whimpered laugh to escape him.

Then he felt it. Like a switch being flicked. He didn't know how it happened, but something inside him changed and all of a sudden that awful compulsion to do something he didn't want to do, was gone. His whole body relaxed, the gun came away from Dean's head and a sob escaped the young man at the relief of it. He didn't know how long the freedom was going to last and he was desperate to finish the ritual to get away from this demon.

"Okay Bobby," Sam murmured into the phone, "give me the rest of it."

As Sam recited the last few words of the exorcism ritual, the demon started to flail in uncontrollable movements, grunting and groaning against the force pulling her out of the host body. When Sam had finished, Lisa's mouth opened and black matter spewed out, falling down into the floor, and away to some hellish world.

"Thanks Bobby," the young hunter sighed into the phone, "it's all over."

"Okay Sam. Call me later and tell me Dean's okay."

"Yeah I will."

Sam jumped up to get some towels to staunch the blood flowing out of his brother, but had to sit down heavily on the bed as the pounding in his head threatened to knock him out. Next to him, Lisa was sitting up dazedly, looking around in confusion.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked Sam.

The young man almost laughed at how far that was from the reality. Lisa brought her hand up to Sam's jaw which was fiery and swollen. "What happened?" she asked with fear slicing through her words. Her eyes traveled around the room and on seeing Dean her hand flew to her mouth. She looked frantically around and cried in panic, "Where's Tommy?"

"Tommy's okay, he's asleep in the car," Sam soothed and he took Lisa by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Listen the demon is gone and you're safe now. There was some stuff happened tonight that I will tell you about later but right now I need for you to go to the bathroom and get some towels so I can tend to Dean. Okay?"

The young woman gave him a nod, her face a mix of emotions. She wanted to hear everything that had happened and how Sam could be so sure the demon was gone, but she could see that Dean was the first priority and without a further word she did as Sam instructed and raced to the bathroom.

Sam looked with concern at his brother. He was going to have to call an ambulance, Dean's gash was too deep for Sam to stitch up and he didn't think he could carry his older brother to the car for a dash to the hospital. He was very worried about what sort of reaction they were going to get at the hospital when Dean showed up with another serious injury in a little over a week. The thought of police involvement had his finger hovering over his phone keys unsure about dialing the emergency number.

Then an idea came to Sam, he thought of a cover story that would explain Dean's injuries and hopefully prevent any legal inquiries. He dialed 911 and gave the operator their details, just as Lisa came back with the towels.

Sam placed a towel over his brother's chest and pressed down hard then indicated for Lisa to take over as he went into the bathroom. Sam closed the door and took out the gun that he had placed in his waistband. He lined up the shower screen with the butt of the gun and hit it as hard as he could. The screen cracked. He hit it again and again until it shattered and there were jagged pieces of glass where the screen had been. The young man went back to where his brother lay and moved Lisa's hands off the towel, peeled it gently off Dean's body and replaced it with a fresh towel. With a nod to Lisa he directed her to start the pressure again while he went into the bathroom and squeezed the blood out of the towel over the floor and shower. Now it looked like Dean had crashed into the shower screen. His back injury was going to enhance that story, it would explain his unsteadiness on his feet.

When Sam was satisfied with the scene in the bathroom he went back to where his brother lay and moved Lisa aside. The young woman had tears streaming down her face and Sam said, "Go and get Tommy out of the car and take him into the other room. Don't bring him through here, I don't want him to wake up and see Dean like this."

Lisa nodded and went outside to the car through the brothers' room, closing the interconnecting door behind her.

Sam sat down beside his brother and put his head on his knees while still maintaining pressure on the wound. Sam felt like he'd been hit by a bus, that was some punch his brother had thrown. But at least it was over. It felt so good to be able to say that. Lisa was alive, the brothers were alive (kind of) and this was now another hunt they could put behind them. Well not exactly behind them, Dean was going to have to figure out what to do about Tommy.

"You are going to make for an interesting father," Sam whispered to the unconscious man and smiled. "I'll make sure you don't turn out like Dad."

The ambulance pulled up outside and Sam rose unsteadily to his feet to open the door. He was thrilled to hand over responsibility for his brother to the professionals and he watched with disassociated interest at the way the paramedics attended to Dean, with a calm urgency. They had some questions for Sam that he answered in a daze and one of the paramedics went into the bathroom to check out the story about how the accident had occurred then came back and gave his partner a satisfied nod. In what only seemed like a few minutes, Dean was loaded into the ambulance and, with Sam by his side, was on his way to another stint in hospital.

-------

Light was picking it way through the blinds when Dean started to become aware of his surroundings. Someone was holding his hand and he really hoped it wasn't Sam. He wasn't a big advocate of male hand holding even between brothers.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw that it was Bev beside him, taking his pulse.

"Morning Dean," Bev said with a smile.

"Morning Bev," he replied in a whisper. He was having some serious déjà vu and he wasn't quite sure what he was doing at the hospital again.

"Heard you had a fall," the nurse said.

"Did I?" Dean asked groggily. He didn't remember falling.

"You're either one of the luckiest people I've met, or the unluckiest, I can't figure out which," Bev noted. "How you could cut yourself that deep and not nick an artery is a miracle."

That's right. The demon cut him. Now he was with it. What was with the falling? Better to just shut up and ask Sam about it later.

"Will I live?" he asked with a mock to his tone.

Bev blew out her breath. "Just. But you aggravated your back injury, the doctor is talking about putting you in traction to stop you moving around so much."

Dean tensed as he quickly wiggled his toes to check whether his injury had regressed a week. Toes were definitely moving, thank Christ. His body relaxed as he mumbled, "I'll pass on the traction, thanks."

Bev regarded the young man with a slight smile, there was something about his stubbornness and attitude that was appealing, maybe because it came with that face. "Well if you want to avoid traction, you need to do the right thing and stay in bed for the next couple of days. No sneaking out when my back is turned. I'll tie you down if you try."

"That's a bit forward Bev," Dean replied with a tired smile.

"You know I will," the nurse persisted with a point of her finger.

The injured man didn't argue the point. Laying in bed for a few days actually sounded pretty good to him right now. "Where's Sam?" he asked.

Bev nodded her head toward the other side of the room and Dean saw Sam asleep lying across two chairs.

"You got something I can throw at him?"

"No!" Bev remarked indignantly. "Poor kid let him sleep. He's not too good himself what with slipping over coming to your rescue."

_What? What the hell?_

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked glancing at his brother again with a critical eye, looking for injury.

"Concussion. The Doctor wanted to put him in a bed but he wouldn't have it, he wanted to stay with you. So be nice to him."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean dismissed. When was he not nice to Sam? He was pleased to hear that Sam hadn't suffered any further injuries after Dean lost consciousness and couldn't wait to hear how Sam had finished the exorcism.

"There's a young woman outside waiting to see you. You want me to send her in?"

"Oh God no," Dean replied quickly. He was feeling way too fragile for some sort of Tommy showdown. Oh wait, did Lisa know that he knew? Because Sam told him about being Tommy's father when Lisa was possessed, so she may not remember. It was too early in the morning to be contemplating brain benders like that. Either way, he wasn't up to seeing Lisa yet. A little bit more sleep then he'd be feeling sociable. With that thought he closed his eyes. But a second later his eyes flew open as it occurred to him that Lisa could be here to say goodbye and he wanted to talk to her before she left.

"Wait a minute Bev," Dean called to the retreating nurse, "I do need to speak to that woman outside, but she's got a little boy with her, could you take him for a tour of the hospital or something, just so we have a few minutes alone."

Bev gave him a nod. _Only for you_ she thought.

A few minutes later Lisa walked timidly into the room. She felt awkward seeing Dean looking like death in the bed. What do you say to someone who was nearly killed on your behalf? And it made things worse that there was a large chunk of her memory missing, she didn't know why she had lost hours and she was a little afraid to ask.

"Hey," Lisa greeted him.

"Hey."

"You look-" _awful?_ That wasn't a very good opener and the young woman didn't know how to end that sentence.

"Yeah I know," Dean responded to her unfinished sentence with a smile.

Lisa had assumed Sam would be here, and as she scanned the room, she saw him asleep on the chairs. It made her a bit nervous that it was just her and Dean having a conversation, now she was wondering whether it was such a good idea coming to the hospital unannounced. She had spent a sleepless night trying to figure out what had happened the previous day and had come up to the hospital for some answers as soon as Tommy was fed and dressed. Looking distractedly out the window, she decided that she still wanted those answers, it didn't really matter if Sam was involved in the conversation or not.

The young woman wasn't sure where to start, not sure what she wanted to know and what she would be better off not knowing. With a sigh she thought it was probably best to know it all. Her gaze returned to Dean and she said, "I seem to have a blank spot between going to the park yesterday morning and waking up at the motel. Did something happen to me?"

"Yeah," the injured man replied with a seriousness that made Lisa's stomach knot. "You were possessed by the demon."

"What?" Lisa was horrified. "How? Why?"

"At the park, the demon got inside you. And why, because it could, because it wanted to mess with all of us for a while."

"And what happened?" the young woman asked quietly, dreading to hear the answer.

Dean wasn't sure how to answer that. Did he want to tell Lisa that Tommy had almost had his throat slashed? Yeah, the child may have psychological problems as a result and his mother should know why. He shifted his focus away from her face so he wouldn't see her response to what he was about to tell her.

"We got back from the park and Sam held a knife to Tommy's throat..." There was a sharp intake of breath from Lisa and Dean winced at his brother sounding like the bad guy, he wanted to protest that it wasn't Sam's fault, but it was better to just to follow the time line and get it all out, "the demon was controlling him and I shot Sam to get him away from Tommy."

"Oh my God," Lisa exclaimed. "You shot Sam?" Her eyes flicked over to where the young man was sleeping. "But he looks okay."

"Yeah, it wasn't too serious, it went through his arm."

The young woman moved away from the bed restlessly, trying to process this information.

Dean continued, "I knew something had to be controlling Sam, he wouldn't try to kill Tommy for no reason and by process of elimination I guessed it had to be you controlling him. Or at least I guessed the demon was inside you." The hunter brought his hand up to rub his eyes, "That doesn't sound very convincing now, but at the time it made perfect sense."

Lisa put her hands on her hips and looked up at the ceiling, trying to understand how a demon inside her could try to kill her son. Why didn't her natural maternal instincts kick in to prevent that? It was disturbing to her that she could be so completely overpowered without being aware of it.

Trying to maintain her composure Lisa asked, "How did the demon control Sam?"

"It got into his head, I'm not really sure how," Dean replied vaguely, not wanting to say anything about Sam's psychic abilities.

She nodded. _Sure, why not, demon in me, demon in Sam's head._ For someone not used to this sort of stuff it was all very hard to swallow.

"We caught you-the demon- in a devil's trap at the motel, which is like a large ring the demon can't get out of. Unfortunately I got caught in the trap with it which is how this happened," he pointed to his chest, "but we managed to exorcise the demon and its back in hell, so you're safe and everyone can go home happy." That was an abridged version of what had occurred but she didn't need to know all the ins and out of what was said and done in that room.

Lisa took a deep breath and said, "So that's it, I know everything now?"

"Well-" this is where things got tricky, the Tommy issue. He had to mention it, it was too big a detail to leave out, but he really wasn't up for an argument right now.

"What?" Lisa prompted.

"It was kind of revealed that I'm Tommy's father."

Lisa froze and looked at him with fearful eyes, trying to read his reaction to the news. Was he angry with her? Was he about to launch into a tirade? The young woman's jaw started to tremble, she felt overcome by everything that had happened in the last week, so much turmoil and now this. She couldn't hold back her emotion any longer. Much to Dean's embarrassment Lisa started to sob.

"It's okay," he offered awkwardly and at those words Lisa put her arms around Dean's neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered between heaving breaths. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he repeated, taken aback by this flood of tears, not at all what he'd been expecting. "We just have to talk about it." He rubbed Lisa's back comfortingly, until the crying eased and she drew herself away from the injured man self-consciously.

"Okay," she said wiping the tears and giving him an uncertain smile to hide her trepidation about having that dreaded parental conversation.

"But I don't think I can talk about it today," he added. "Can you stay a few more days."

"Yeah, we can stay."


	19. Chapter 19

This is the final chapter. I just want to thank you all for reading, it has meant so much that you have stuck with it and left your comments.

* * *

Chapter 19

Sam woke with a groan feeling sore and sorry for himself. Stupid uncomfortable chairs, he would have been better off sleeping on the floor.

"Good morning starshine," Dean greeted him, "the earth says hello."

"The earth needs to shut up," Sam mumbled, not in the mood for cheerfulness. His brain was pounding against his skull in a way that was going to drive him insane very quickly and his arm was throbbing from laying so awkwardly. He looked over at his brother and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed watching him, his left arm braced tightly against his chest, a smirk on his face.

"I really pack a punch don't I?" the older man commented smugly.

Sam didn't respond as he slowly swung his legs off the chair and sat up. He squeezed his fingers against his temples, trying to find a pressure point to reduce his pain and closed his eyes as the room tilted sickeningly before him. Nausea began to roll over him and he breathed deeply while trying to swallow it away.

"God I feel awful," the young man moaned.

"Welcome to the party pal," his brother replied. Dean began to feel a little concerned about how pale Sam was, the dark bruise on his jaw stood out in stark relief against the rest of his face. "You want me to call Bev?" he asked.

"Nah, I'll be okay." When Sam's body had adjusted to the new position he glanced at his brother and said, "Should you be sitting up?" Dean looked like he was about to hop out of bed and Sam was pretty sure that was premature.

"Oh yeah. It's fine."

Dean's earlier conversation with Lisa had left him feeling restless. There was so much to think about, and while his body was urging him to sleep, his mind wouldn't shut down. He had tried to close his eyes and get his thoughts together but he had a nervous energy that made him want to pace. Without really knowing what he intended, the injured man had sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the bed, but once he was in that position he wondered what the hell he was thinking. He felt as weak as a kitten, pain was attacking him from both the front and the back and with a ridiculous amount of stitches straining in unison every time his chest rose, he was breathing shallowly to minimize his discomfort and it was making him light headed. But ever one to put on a brave face, he tried to ignore how bad he was feeling and hoped his brother didn't catch on.

"Did you tell people I was injured in a fall?" Dean asked his brother, remembering Bev's earlier comment and keen to get their stories straight.

"Yeah. You fell through the shower screen at the motel."

"What?" Dean was horrified. "I hope I fell for good reason. I'm not just some klutz who tripped over his shoe laces am I?"

A smile flickered over Sam's face, "Well I wasn't in the bathroom when you fell, so who knows how it happened."

"Ah Sam," Dean growled, "you couldn't come up with some cool knifing story?"

"Yeah, and have the cops waiting to talk to you when you woke up?" the younger brother retorted, put out by his brother's ingratitude, "It was convenient and it was convincing, so stop complaining."

"Hmmm." Dean didn't say anymore but it was galling that everyone was going to think he was some clumsy dork when it was so far from the truth. He did, however, begrudgingly accept that his brother had come up with a cover story at pretty short notice that wouldn't arouse suspicion.

The older man changed the subject. "Lisa was here before."

That piqued Sam's interest, his head came up with eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah? What did you tell her?"

"Well I had to tell her everything, she didn't remember anything after going to the park."

"How much everything?" Sam queried. There was some pretty heavy stuff that everything could include, Sam holding a knife to Tommy's throat, Dean shooting Sam, Dean finding out he was Tommy's father, Lisa being possessed. He wondered if Dean had given Lisa the abridged, need to know version, or the whole truth.

"Everything," Dean repeated meaningfully.

Sam exhaled loudly. "How'd she take it?"

"Oh she was thrilled," Dean replied.

The younger brother ignored the sarcasm and asked slowly, "Did you talk about Tommy?"

"Not really." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I told her that I knew I was Tommy's father and she burst into tears, which was flattering. We're going to talk about it soon, maybe tomorrow," his voice trailed off.

"What are you going to say?" Sam asked, aware that he was prying but keen to know how his brother was going to approach fatherhood.

"I don't know," Dean answered honestly, wishing he could find some easy answers. "I mean what the hell Sam? What am I supposed to do about a kid?"

The younger man didn't say anything, it wasn't a question he wanted to answer.

"Don't get me wrong," Dean continued, "he's a nice kid, and sure I'd like to be a father at some point. But shit Sam, right now we've got work to do. We're in the middle of a war and I can't be taking Daddy time out." He sighed. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what's important anymore."

Dean was hoping his brother would play devil's advocate and come up with some compelling reasons why he shouldn't stay on the road, why he should give up hunting and spend time with his son. _You deserve some normality, you deserve some happiness. Take a break, get to know your son and let him get to know you. You've sacrificed enough for hunting, family is more important._

But all Sam said was, "I can't help you with this one, you're going to have to figure it out for yourself."

The older brother was disappointed in that response. Even though he had pretty much made the decision that he was going to stay on the road, Dean was willing to be swayed. He wanted Sam to be indignant about him continuing the hunting life when there was an alternative, and he was surprised that his brother wasn't even going to try and talk him out of staying on the road. Didn't Tommy deserve better than a father he was only going to see every couple of months? Didn't Dean deserve better? Maybe it was because Sam wasn't feeling well that he wasn't more vocal on the subject. Dean gave him the benefit of the doubt. Sam had mentioned in the past his desire to have a normal life, one that didn't include hunting, surely he must want the same for Dean.

Dean craved some guidance. He wanted someone to sit him down and say _this is what you should do, this is what you need to consider._ He really wished he could discuss this with his Dad, he'd tell him what to do. He tried to imagine what advice his father would give him and it fell into one of two categories, _Son, don't make the same mistakes I made_ or _Son, I had to make a lot of sacrifices but it was worth it._ He couldn't decide which it would be.

Sitting up was burning out Dean's energy, he couldn't think anymore when his body was screaming at him to lay down. He tried to lift his legs back onto the mattress but he didn't have the strength and he realized he had been overly ambitious with this legs over the side of the bed proposition, now he was stuck, he was going to need help getting back into bed. All of a sudden everything seemed too hard. Breathing, living, decision making-it was all too hard. He abandoned the effort to get his legs back on the bed and just lay down horizontal against the mattress, closing his eyes.

Sam noticed the physical predicament his brother was in, he didn't bother asking Dean if he was okay because his standard response was always yes, he just bit his lip against the agony in his head and went over to where his brother lay. He lifted Dean's legs back onto the bed and gently straightened him up.

While Sam was tending to him Dean asked quietly, "How would you feel if I stopped hunting?" not really considering that he would stop hunting, just asking the question, seeing how Sam felt about it.

"I'd feel fine," Sam replied non-commitally.

"Would you stop if I stopped?"

The younger brother thought about it for a moment then said, "Not right now. There are some things I need to do first." Sam caught his brother's eye and asked, "Are you seriously thinking about giving it up?"

Dean responded with a wry smile, "I'm always thinking about giving it up."

The rest of the day the boys spent in fairly solitary contemplation. Dean slept fitfully and when he was awake his mind was filled with thoughts of Tommy and how he was going to address the fatherhood issue.

Sam was caught up in his own issues. He was deep in the cycle of guilt and recriminations over the whole demon affair. He was troubled at the way he had been manipulated by the demon. While he was susceptible to that sort of mind control he was a danger to everyone. The fact that he had overcome the control at the crucial moment was no comfort to him because he didn't know how he had done it and he didn't think he could replicate it.

As Sam moped around the hospital room Dean finally caught on to his brother's turmoil. He thought Sam had been laying low because he was feeling terrible, but eventually he realized there was more to his brother's mood than just the physical. Keen to distract himself from his own troubled thoughts he tried to find a way to ease the younger's mind. He knew his younger brother well enough to guess that he was blaming himself for a lot of what had occurred and no doubt was tearing himself to pieces about the psychic link that the demon had with him.

"Listen Sam," the older brother began as Sam looked distractedly out the window. "Maybe you've been going about this psychic thing all wrong. So far you've been trying to avoid it, pretend it doesn't exist, perhaps you should be embracing it and seeing what you could do with it."

Sam looked at his brother dubiously. "You don't think I'm freak enough?"

"Whether you like it or not, you've got this 'gift'", Dean smiled at the irony of calling such a burden a gift, "ignoring it hasn't made it go away. So you might as well take it to the limit. If you figure out how it works then you should be able turn it on and off."

Sam gave a short mirthless laugh. "It's not that easy controlling something inside you. I mean how do you practice with that?" He wasn't complaining so much as looking for a solution.

"You did it once right? You told me that you flicked a switch when you were," Dean gulped, "about to shoot me in the head." Sam had reluctantly made that awful revelation during the course of the day after Dean kept asking how he had finished off the exorcism.

The older brother continued, "You just have to try and duplicate that. Figure out how you did it then practice at it, so you can flick that switch at will."

Sam turned away from his brother in annoyance. Dean made it sound so easy, _just figure it out, practice at it_ but it was like Sam telling Dean he should get control of his heartbeat. His psychic ability was one of those ephemeral things, something that was just there. Sure control would be nice but he had no idea how to go about it. And until he did gain control he was a loose cannon, a threat to his brother.

Dean could see that line of reasoning wasn't working so changed tack. "Look Sam, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think controlling you is something every demon can do. The demon told me it was a little trick she learnt, and I got the feeling it was something special, something she was proud of. So this may not be as big a problem as you think." Dean was pleased to see his brother interested in that piece of information, slightly mollified. "And if there _are_ other demons that can control you, I think that ability is limited, the demon in Lisa could only control you when you were nearby." Dean let that sink in. "So even if you can't control your freak door, I don't think it's disastrous."

"Would you stop calling it my freak door," Sam said testily.

"Your mutation? Your mental deficiency?" Dean amended, and at getting an eye roll asked, "Give me a clue here. What do you want me to call it?"

"Whatever."

Sam didn't want to give his psychic ability a name, he really preferred not to think about it but he was heartened by Dean's theories. Not being able to control his mind was still a problem, but he had been thinking about whether he needed to split up from Dean, make that sacrifice to ensure his brother was safe, and maybe he didn't need to go that far. They had dealt with demons before who hadn't controlled him, so maybe this _was_ an isolated incident, maybe this problem wasn't as devastating as he had been thinking it was. He didn't need to come to any conclusions about it right now, the demon was gone so he had time to think about how he was going to handle this problem, but Dean's words had certainly lifted his spirits some, made the future not quite so bleak.

In the afternoon, Dean insisted that his brother leave the hospital and return to the motel. Sam had been trying to catch some sleep on the chairs again and it obviously wasn't comfortable. Sam protested about leaving but his heart wasn't in it, he knew he'd feel so much better if he had a decent sleep, so after a short power struggle, he gave in to Dean's demand. He would go back to the motel, get a good sleep and return to the hospital with Tommy and Lisa in the morning.

Dean broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of seeing Lisa again.

------

The next morning, Lisa came in to Dean's room alone.

The injured man was chewing his fingers, trying to concentrate on the tv and disregard his agitation. "Where's Sam?" he asked.

"He's taken Tommy to the park," she replied with a nervous smile. "I think he wanted us to have some time alone."

Dean gulped. He had woken up that morning not sure he was ready for this conversation, considering putting it off for another day, but now Sam had taken it out of his hands and he was having this dreaded conversation whether he liked it or not.

The defacto parents looked at each other in awkward discomfort. "So-," Lisa broke the silence, "congratulations, it's a boy."

The young woman cringed at her forced humour. After getting over the shock of her secret having been revealed she had spent the night considering how to approach this conversation and what sort of relationship she wanted to have with Dean. There had been years when she had felt bitterness toward him, when she would have relished the opportunity to make him suffer, to make his life difficult, but after the last week, she was pretty much over those feelings. He had put himself on the line for her, fought hard to keep her alive and she owed him. So she had made a vow to herself that when talking about Tommy she wasn't going to be bitchy (if she could help it), she wasn't going to be mean, she was going to be understanding and giving. Whatever he wanted to do, however he wanted to approach his role as a father she was going to be supportive (within reason). They were going to be partners in this parenting business and she was going to do her best to make it an easy relationship. She really hoped she could stick to that resolve.

Dean was feeling as nervous as hell. This was a big deal, discussing what sort of father he was going to be. The decisions he made now were going to have long term consequences. He brought his hand up to his neck trying to figure out what to say. He wasn't interested in playing the blame game with Lisa, he knew he wasn't blameless in this whole business. When he left Lisa four years ago, he was pretty sure he hadn't given her his phone number, so it wasn't like she could have called him and said _Guess what?_ He wasn't sure he had even given her his real name. So although he was annoyed about her trying to keep his paternity a secret over the last week, it was his fault that he had been in the dark about Tommy all those years. He didn't want this conversation to descend into a slanging match, because they both had ammunition, he was going to try and keep things civil, friendly.

_Just launch into it you coward_ he berated himself when silence enveloped them again, _tell her what you've decided, get it over with._

"I've been thinking a lot about Tommy and what sort of father I want to be," his voice sounded loud in the stillness and Lisa jumped, "I just-"

Dean sighed deeply and looked out the window with a slight shake of his head. Did he really want to do this? Stay on the road with his brother? Was that the right decision? After agonising over it all night, he still wasn't sure. He had thought very seriously about whether he could settle down somewhere near Lisa, interact with his son during the week and be a weekend hunter, but he knew it wouldn't work, it just wasn't him and he'd probably end up resenting them for it if he tried.

"-don't want to get involved?" Lisa finished Dean's sentence without anger or accusation, more with a tinge of sadness.

"No," he corrected her quickly. "It's not that. I would love to get involved. I had a great relationship with my Dad and I would love to have something similar with Tommy. It's just that I don't think I can. Not yet. There are some things Sam and I still have to do and I can't walk away from that." He averted his gaze, finding it really hard to justify himself, probably because he wasn't entirely convinced he was doing the right thing. "It means I won't be able to spend as much time with Tommy as I would like."

Lisa looked down at her feet feeling let down. She had been dreading the thought of Dean wanting to be too involved in their lives and now she was upset that he didn't want to be more involved. He had other priorities and she understood why, he was out there trying to save lives, that was important, he wasn't just blowing them off for no reason. But it hurt that saving strangers was more important to him than being with their son, she felt insulted on Tommy's behalf.

Dean could see Lisa's disappointment and he felt like he hadn't explained himself properly. "Its not that I don't care about Tommy," he continued, "because I do. I really want to be a good father. I'll come and see you whenever I can and maybe in a few years I can give away this hunting caper and be more of a permanent fixture in your lives. I want that, I want to be an important person in Tommy's life."

The idea of Tommy not being as close to Dean as he had been to his father really affected him, the prospect of not being important to his son hit him hard. His childhood hadn't been ideal but still he had admired his father, respected him and loved him and he wasn't sure Tommy would develop that same sort of relationship if they only saw each other every couple of months. And that was a difficult reality to accept. It had kept him awake last night, the idea that by failing to make this sacrifice, both he and his son were going to lose out. And he wasn't sure if he was just being selfish or if he really did have good reason for being an absentee father. It was a life altering decision he was making here, and he wasn't sure he was doing it right. He had a nagging suspicion that he was going to look back in a couple of year and wish he had done things differently.

"I see," Lisa said diplomatically, trying not to break her vow to be understanding. She thought it was the wrong choice he was making, not making more of an effort to be involved in his son's life, he was going to miss so much and it was time he would never get back. It was a decision that he was going to regret down the track.

"I understand where you're coming from, and if that's the way you want to play it, then-" she held out her hands in a signal of reluctant acceptance, "I guess I can live with it. But I have one request. And it's a big one." She looked at him earnestly.

"Yes," he prompted.

"I don't think we should tell Tommy you're his father."

It was like Dean had been punched in the stomach. The breath left him and his mind reeled at the unexpected request. "Why not?"

"Because he's too young to understand why you don't want to be with him."

"I do want to be with him-"

"Okay why you _can't_ be with him," Lisa amended. "Its going to be unsettling for him to find out you're his father and then have you coming and going all the time. I won't be able to explain to him where you are and why you're not with us. And I don't want to tell him what you do, it'd give him nightmares."

Dean's face fell and Lisa felt like she was kicking him while he was down. "Dean I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hurt you." She rested her hand on his arm gently to let him know it wasn't personal, she wasn't trying to punish him. "We'll tell Tommy you're his father eventually, I don't want to deny you that, just not right now. Give it a couple of years. Okay?"

"Okay," he heard himself say, as if it didn't bother him, when in fact she couldn't have cut him deeper if she had taken a knife and plunged it into him. He was being relegated, demoted from father to some guy who came around a lot. Man that sucked, it really did. But he didn't think it was an unreasonable request, he had lived with a father who came and went and it _was_ unsettling, it _was_ confusing, so he understood her concern. And just because he didn't have the name, didn't mean he wouldn't still play the role. There was more to being a father than being called 'Daddy' and he took the role seriously, he intended to do his best from afar.

But being denied recognition, even if it was only temporary was just the final sting in the tail of this job. Dean couldn't remember ever feeling so battered and beaten. He was physically and mentally exhausted. Lucky he had a good sense of humour. And a brother so easy to wind up. Even in the dark times, things weren't all bad.

Lisa started talking about something else, but the hunter switched off. They'd had the important conversation and he had hardly slept thinking about it, so now he was frickin' tired. He closed his eyes, knowing it was rude, that he was cutting Lisa off, but he figured when you're weren't 100 percent people made allowances for that sort of thing.

As he fell asleep, Dean's mind wandered to twenty years from now, when he was the 'old man' and his son was trying to make his way in the world. He wasn't going to be as enigmatic as his father, he was going to be available to Tommy and he liked the idea of passing on his knowledge and experience to make his son's life easier. It could be fun being a part of that journey.

The future could be okay.

The End


End file.
